


Rose of Ferelden

by happywife416



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F, Origin Story, Smut, Stealing, Thief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:10:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 31,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywife416/pseuds/happywife416
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before she was Champion of Kirkwall, before she was a mercenary on shores across the Waking Sea from the country of her birth, and before the Blight that changed it all, Rose Hawke was the master thief of Ferelden. She had a life, a love, and money that she had earned all on her own. This is her story.</p><p>Prequel to Its All in a Song</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rose by Any Other Name

The infant's cries broke the still morning. Her mother smiled down at the ruddy bundle in her arms as the midwife patted her arm. "A lovely, healthy girl, Leandra."

She turned her smile to her lover. "We should name her Celene."

Malcolm pulled a rose from behind him, out of thin air. "Or Rose. They started blooming this morning. Poetic, don't you think?"

She laughed, carefree and unburdened as she took it from him to dangle the blossom before the child. "Yes. Rose Celene Hawke. Welcome to the world, darling."

The baby grabbed at the flower, catching the only thorn on her small hand. She didn't cry, just stared at the red blood trickling across her fat palm before flailing it again. Malcolm healed the scratch with a touch of magic and she burbled. "She's strong and fearless already. We will have our hands full."

"Her father's doing." He leaned over the bed and wrapped the two of them in a hug, kissing Leandra's hair and hiding the quiet sorrow in his eyes.

A soft knock came from the door. "Do I have a new grandbaby?" The woman's soft curls were cut short and white as she stooped over her cane.

Malcolm laughed. "Yes, yes. Thank you, Eleanor. This means so much to us. Come see her."

She peered down at the baby, touching a soft wrinkled finger to the girl's nose. "She will be a beauty as she grows with those blue eyes. Her name?"

Malcolm beamed. "Rose Celene." Leandra fidgeted with the blankets.

Eleanor patted the bed. "I'll let you bond. If you need anything more, just holler."

Once the door shut, Leandra glared up at him. "She has real grandparents."

He sighed. "In Kirkwall, and they disowned you."

"They may change their mind now." She smiled down at Rose again. "Who could resist this child?"


	2. Freckles

The wagon creaked behind the old, sway backed horse. Rose knelt up behind the bench and pulled on her mother's dress. "Mamae? I'm hungry." Leandra was silent as the reins hung limply in her hands. Malcolm was sleeping in the back of the wagon, new lines on his face every day. The tug came again, more insistent this time. "Mamae?"

"Hush, Rose. There is nothing to eat."

Silence answered her and then the girl climbed on to the bench beside her. Her tiny legs dangled in the wind, almost three years old and she looked like the baby dolls Leandra had played with as a child. She swallowed hard, brushing back the hair from Rose's face. Too many long days with too little food, how many times had she almost regretted not lying about who her father had been? She could have been raised in Kirkwall and never known hunger. Rose began to hum and then her little voice picked up in a song. "Mouses run and gryphons fly I don't want to go to bed Flowers smell pretty And cookies are yummy I love my mamae and papae best and horse farts are the worst."

Leandra choked on her laugh. "Did you think of that yourself?"

"Yes! Freckles said it was a good song." She kicked her little feet in the air and bounced on the bench.

"Who's Freckles?"

Rose sighed in exasperation. "The horse, mamae. He has grey freckles."


	3. Potatoes

Rose sat between Freckles hooves in the paddock, weaving a flower crown and giggling when he would lip her hair. Malcolm strode out to check on her, Leandra was finally resting quietly. The birth of the twins had exhausted her completely. "Rose?"

She looked up with a bright smile. "Can we stay at Gramma's forever?"

He sighed. "How about you meet your baby brother and sister?"

"I have two?" Her eyes were wide with wonder. She leapt to her feet and ducked under the fence, racing him to the house.

Her excitement was infectious as he hushed her and they crept into the bedroom. They stared down at the babies in the cradle. "Bethany is in the yellow blanket and Carver is in the green one."

Her nose screwed up. "They look like potatoes."

He coughed. "Rose Celene. They are your siblings." She stared up at him, one small eyebrow forming a perfect arch. She sighed and wandered out of the room.

As the door was closing he heard her whisper. "Sibling potatoes."


	4. A Name to Grow Into

Rose dangled a feather above Bethany's face. She still had round baby cheeks and a full pouting mouth. People cooed over her everywhere they stopped. Rose's chin and cheeks were finer, sharper like their father's and at odds with the same full lips. "We have the same eyes though, baby Beth. And we smile. Carver still scowls like he's going to be sick. Gramma says I have sea eyes though because they change. Maybe yours will too someday and we can match."

"Let her sleep, Celene." Her mother's voice was sharp. They had spent the night on the road, the children sleeping in the wagon while Malcolm and her traded off driving and watching for anyone following them.

"That's not my name." Rose tucked the feather into the pocket of her dress, an old cast off sweater of her father's that hung down over her legging clad knees but warm for Fereldens crisp fall days. "I don't even like that name."

Leandra sighed, kneading bread for dinner. "It's a strong name, a name of an empress. You'll grow into it."

"My name is Rose."

"You certainly have the thorns of one." The little girl froze staring at her mother. "Never let me hold you, even when you were little. Always your papae's girl." She slammed the bowl down on the stump and stared at her. "You're not pretty enough for that name, Celene. Bethany is the pretty one. Pick a name that won't leave people expecting more than you can give. Give it up with your stories and grow up into someone I can be proud of at least."

Rose turned and ran, stumbling through her tears and smacking into Freckles. She sobbed silently on the ground, tears soaking into the grass until the old horse, long grey in his withers and nose, nuzzled her hair. She pulled herself to her feet with her fingers tangled in his mane. She stared into his soul filled eyes and stroked his head. "Someone will be proud of what I can give one day, Freckles." She sniffed. "One day I will make people so happy she will just choke on her stupid pride. But it will be my name, not hers." He snorted in agreement.

Malcolm found her hours later, tear stains dry and red on her cheeks and snoring softly beside Freckles. He petted the old gelding. "Taking good care of my little bird?" He swished his tail as he reached down to shake her shoulder. "Rose?"

She rubbed her eyes. "Papae." She sat up, hair in a wild halo around her with a scattering of grass tucked into the curls.

"You look like a forest child in one of your stories, sweetheart." He smiled.

Her face fell and she wrapped her arms around her knees. "Mamae said I need to give up my stories." She sniffed loudly. "And said I need to go by Celene because I have thorns and I'm ugly." She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. "Why does she hate me and love the babies?"

He dropped down beside her and pulled her into his lap in a tight hug. "My little hawk, I'm sorry." He sang her favorite song and then told her favorite stories until the tears stopped. "What would you like to do?"

She wiped at her eyes. "When I'm big?" He nodded. "I want to sing, like you. But I don't want to be hungry all the time. And I want to go to Kirkwall and take away the chains so we can live there like a family again so mamae can be happy." She stared at him. "That's why we can't go back right? The chains are in the way? And mamae is sad because she misses her family." She nodded to herself before smiling. "And I want to fly like I do in my stories."

"My sweet, clever girl. You could do it." He looked thoughtful a moment. "Hawke, so when you fly people know what to call you. A name you can grow into."

She grinned. "A name that'll they'll know what to expect."


	5. The Magic in Stories

The messenger had found them near Amaranthine. Eleanor, Gramma to the Hawke children, was ready to pass on to the Maker and she wanted them there. "Why are we going through the forests again? The highway is safer, Malcolm." Leandra complained.

He sighed, impatiently bouncing the reins in his hands. There was no more speed to be had out of old Freckles, now blind in one eye. "Because this way is faster by four days. We have nothing worth stealing, darling."

The twins stared wide eyed at the forest around them from behind their mother and she cursed realizing the third child was not on the low bench. "Where is your sister?"

A giggle came from above them. "Up here, mamae." She was perched on top of the wagon's wooden roof.

"Get down this instant!" Hawke quirked an eyebrow and settled in more comfortably just out of reach unless Leandra stood. "Rose! Malcolm, make your daughter listen."

He glanced up at her, noting the sling in her hand and the bag of stones on her belt. Her sea eyes stormed across the forest around them in endless circles and he smiled. "She's fine, Leandra. Our little Hawke is hunting."

She fumed, her sharp gaze slicing between husband and daughter. "That would be fine if she was a boy. But you should stop encouraging her. And her name is Rose."

The girl rolled her eyes and let a stone fly, downing a rabbit along the path. She slithered down the wagon's side and dropped neatly to the ground. "It's Hawke. And no boy could do that."

"Want me to wait, clever girl?"

"No, papae, I'll catch up."

The two minutes were up and then some when Leandra turned on him again. "She's nine. Stop the horse."

"There's nothing that will hurt her, Leandra. It'll take her two minutes to catch up. We do this all the time." He clucked to Freckles, who was more interested in what his tiny mistress was doing but he obligingly continued.

"What if there were bandits?" Her voice rose to a shriek.

Malcolm rolled his eyes, a mirror to Hawke's earlier motion. "She wouldn't have risked getting off the wagon and leaving us vulnerable. Give your daughter some credit, Lea. She's a smart girl and will do great things, she does great things now and you just don't see them."

She settled on the bench. "She's unnatural and not the least bit a lady. I have some hope for Bethany at least, even with her magic showing so early."

Hawke leaned out over the roof, the wide grin at odds with the empty blue eyes. "I'm back."

Leandra jumped. "How? You didn't make any noise!"

She shrugged. "Rabbit's in the pot already and I hung the skin on the shutter." She turned to Malcolm. "There was a campfire not far from the road, it's been used within the last week. It didn't look like bandits. Dalish maybe, there was a lot of poop and thin wheel tracks. No statue, so not a permanent camp if it was."

He nodded. "We will travel carefully then. We won't disturb them unless we have to. The Dalish have enough trouble without us bumbling around into their halla pen."

She crouched on the roof, swaying with the motion and her face wistful. "I want to pet a halla. They look soft." She grinned. "That would be good for my next story, Papae, The hawk girl and her halla."

He laughed. "The twins will like that."

"Halla are dirty." Leandra sniffed. "And you should focus on talents that will bring you money, Rose. Look what storytelling and songs has gotten your father."

The girl's eyes harden to a steely glint. "Maybe that's because he has to sing and tell tales in Ferelden instead of the Free Marshes or Orlais where they appreciate art. The dog lords only love stories about their most prized bitches. You should love them, mother." She stood and walked to the back of the wagon, dropping off the end as her parents stared in shock. Malcolm handed off the reins and called after her.

She ignored him, running into the forest as fast her legs would take her and wiping away the tears slower than they were falling. Her breathing came in shuddering gasps, fighting her control to keep it calm and silent. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and she froze. "Da'len? Are you lost?"

She looked up. Bright vallaslin over a sun darkened face, pointed ears and close cropped sides with the hair so long on top it broke her sadness as she tried to figure out how he braided it. "Ir abelas, Messere. I." Her voice faltered. "I wandered off from my family. We were traveling the forest road. I didn't mean to disturb you."

He chuckled. "You did not. You are lucky I had already brought down the bear."

She eyed the carcass behind him. "You got it with one shot?" He nodded and she whistled. "You have all the luck, messere."

"What's your name, da'len?"

"Rose Hawke, my papae is Malcolm Hawke. We are headed to Lothering." She stared at the forest around them, making a slow circle. "I've lost the road."

"I'll take you."

She held up her hand, imperious for her height. "What about your bear? Your clan will need it. Meat can go bad quickly in the summer. I can follow my tracks back, I think." He eyed her with approval before making a bird call. She watched quietly as others melted from the forest and stood behind him. Hawke grinned and waved. "I want to be able to do that someday. I pretend I'm a leaf some times to practice."

One of the others laughed as they talked quietly amongst themselves. They started into the bear and he led her back the direction she came. "Come, show me how you would follow your tracks."

With quiet patience and guidance, he let her pick her way back to the road. Every word that left him, she listened to with apt attention, her questions ever respectful and far above her age. When she found the road, she turned back to thank him and he was gone. Her face fell but she straightened her shoulders and headed towards Lothering. It didn't take long to catch up with the family's wagon, the red shuttered windows open to the breeze. She could hear her parents hysterical arguing. She sighed with a backwards glance to the forest. There was the elf who helped her to the road and she waved. "Ma serannas." She called softly. He bowed his head and faded into the forest.

She strode into the firelight. "Papae!"

"Rose!" Malcolm picked her up and twirled her around. "Where have you been? Are you hurt?"

He set her down and she toed the dirt, staring sheepishly at the ground. "I'm fine." She looked up at him, mouth twisted in a half frown. "Sorry I made you worry."

"Worry?" Leandra exploded making the girl flinch. "After what you said, you're lucky you are welcome back here at all. We should leave you in Lothering."

Malcolm placed his hands on Leandra's shoulders. "Lea, be reasonable. You are hard on her."

Her blue eyes glinted harshly. "Reasonable?! All her talents are good for is the Game and I left that life behind. We can't even go to Orlais because you're an apostate. She won't amount to anything unless she changes. You let her get away with everything."

Hawke's voice trembled. "Mamae, you're going to wake the babies." She froze midword and then stormed away from them both, locking herself in the wagon with the twins. Hawke stared after her mournfully before sitting on a stump by the fire. "Any supper left?"

Malcolm pulled some bread from his pocket. "Sorry, bird. I tried to get you some stew back."

She chewed it thoughtfully. "Stew doesn't go well in a pocket."

Gramma died the morning they arrived in Lothering. Hawke felt a tightness in her chest staring down at the old woman. She had always had a kind word for her or a new book for her to read. She had time for her stories. The adults were fighting, over the contents of the house and the house itself. Her skin felt itchy and hot so she went outside. Gramma Eleanor had the best roses in Ferelden, maybe all of Thedas. She ran her fingers over the blooms, not fearing the thorns. One of the other children came outside, an older boy and a bully, blood kin to Eleanor from one of her numerous marriages.

"Look at you, the little princess from Kirkwall." She ignored him, it was an old taunt but better suited for her mother. Kirkwall was a distant shore she dreamed but not for her noble heritage. No, it was a land of plenty, where she would never be hungry, if she could only cross the sea. He shoved her. "Mouse, I was talking to you."

"Go hump a nug." She balled her fists as she faced.

He laughed. "What? You'll make me?" He stepped closer to her. "With Gramma gone there's no one to protect you lot in Lothering. You're not welcome, not you or your ugly mother or that apostate bastard that fathered you."

Hawke snarled. "Go away."

He laughed. "How about a little deal? You're not too young for a kiss."

Fear gripped her, icy panic shot down her spine as she shoved out with her hands with everything that she had. Her mind was screaming and there was a burst of something within her. A crackle and a roar and she was swept away with it. She closed her eyes letting it carry her, like the time she fell in the river. She opened her eyes only when the screams became louder than the current.

Fire surrounded her. The boy was in front of her on the ground, a pile of ash and smoke. Bile rose in her throat, was there demons nearby? She looked around, the whole garden was in flames and the house. Her heart fell, the house was a raging inferno. She turned and ran deeper into the garden, choking on the acrid taste that billowed into her lungs. She curled up beneath the largest rose bush and closed her eyes.

It felt like hours before she heard her father calling her name. "I'm here!"

He grabbed her hand, casting ice walls between them and the fire as they ran, and pulled her out of the burning garden. He dropped to his knees before her, soot smudged across his fast and eyes wild. "Hawke, where did that fire come from? Quickly, sweetheart."

Her eyes were wide with shock and her mouth opened and closed several times before her voice worked in a soft squeak. "Me. I think it came from me."

Eleanor's adult children came over, demanding answers. Malcolm stood, wrapping an arm around her. "I didn't see anyone else in the garden. I barely found her. Could the boy have been a mage?" There was some quiet speculation between several of them and sack of gold was shoved into Malcolm's hands to keep quiet on the matter.

The next morning, Malcolm took Hawke out to talk by the creek. She told him the whole story, her rage and then her panic. He nodded at the end. "Two magical daughters, a lucky father I am then."

Hawke shook her head. "I don't want magic."

He took her hands. "Sweetheart, it's just a tool. I'll show you how to use it safely and it'll be fine."

She stared at him. "No, Papae. I don't want this life. I want to take care of Beth. I want to have adventures and live in cities and meet new people. I don't want magic. I don't have magic. It's just a story." She got up. "I will never tell a story again. No stories. No magic."

Grasping at a chance, Malcolm cringed at his words. "What about the twins? They love your stories."

She stared at him glumly. "I'll just sing them songs." She walked back to the wagon without another word as he followed behind her.


	6. Hungry Crows

The sharpest of the hunger pangs had subsided to a dull ache some hours past. Hawke crouched in the eaves of the chantry watching the market place. There were more guards in Denerim this time. She hadn't seen father today, she hoped that meant he had found work. Work meant food in their bellies. The meager scraps the Chantry handed out barely fed the twins that morning. She left at noon when she could no longer stand listening to their pitiful whimpers while their mother rocked them with empty eyes. They had fought that morning over selling the horse when they thought Hawke was still asleep. She shook her head. Sell the horse and trap them in this dump? She shifted, restless on her feet but finally the guards began leaving the market for rotation. She stole down the building, making sure her bag was firmly over her shoulder. She was small, a lifetime of too few meals and hard travel insured that. Quick hands and an equally quick mind would take care of the rest. A portly matron was making her weekly round with a large open basket. Hawke eyed the contents of it but moved on using the woman as a shield to snag a wheel of cheese. The baker lost a loaf of bread when she knocked into a tray and scrambled to right her accident with a sweet apologetic smile. "Messere, your lovely bread! I am so sorry." He glared at her as she backed away still apologizing. Her smile turned triumphant when she turned from him.

She wandered openly between the stalls riding on the highs of her successes. Fine fabric, pretty little things to decorate homes that were four walls that she had never known, beautiful jewelry, everything could be had in Denerim. She traced her finger along the blade of a dagger, flicking her eyes towards the shopkeeper before it too disappeared into her bag. She looked skyward, sunset was approaching so she set herself towards the outskirts where the wagon was. The last vendor in the market caught her eye. The greenest apples she had ever seen, her mouth watered looking at them convinced they would taste like spring and a childhood she had dreamed of. The kind of childhood that ended with full bellies every night and never started hours before dawn so she could take watch when they were being pursued. The vendor glared at her, the only thing of her that touched the apples was her longing gaze.

"Rose Hawke! Did you steal this?" Fire crept into Leandra's eyes but her eldest child didn't flinch.

Hawke pulled the bread and cheese from the bag setting them on the wagon seat with a shrug. "I worked for the eggs, mama. The lady needed her coop cleaned."

She grabbed the pan from the wagon and settled by the fire. Bethany and Carver wandered over to her to watch. She had cleaned the woman's coop for the eggs but some of them were extra. Hawke counted them off in her mind. Two apiece for the twins, mother and father would leave her with just one. She shrugged. There was always tomorrow, if she went back through the market maybe she could filch a meat pie. Beth pulled her thumb from her mouth with a wet plop. "Sissy? Was today lucky?"

Hawke nodded. "Today was lucky."

"Will tomorrow? I really hungry." Hawke ruffled her hair and cracked in some eggs.

"Mama, will you cut up the bread and cheese?"

"I don't want to be associated with your thieving ways." Hawke rolled her eyes. She would do it after she got the twins eating their eggs then.

Papa wandered into camp just after dark, drained but smiling. The twins jumped up from their bread and cheese to run screaming to him and he spun them around. Hawke was cooking for herself, her lone egg with a crumble of cheese on top. Malcolm mussed her hair. "It seems my Hawke had a productive day."

She grinned. "I found a lady who needed a chicken coop cleaned." Her smile faded. "Most people won't hire me because I'm a girl, they want a boy for that kind of work. It's stupid, papa."

"Well, I found a job at the royal palace for the season. After that, we'll go back to Lothering. But I have a surprise for you." He pulled the shiniest apple from the stall out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Enjoy it."

Hawke's mouth watered but she grabbed the knife and sliced off two chunks for Bethany and Carver. She slipped the rest into her pocket. She ate her egg and a piece of bread before putting everything away into the wagon. They would have enough just enough to make a little breakfast. Hopefully papa would get paid at the end of the week and they could buy supplies, flour kept better then bread and stretched farther too. She wandered over to the horse, pulling the apple from her pocket. It had browned along the edges where she had cut off pieces for the twins but it didn't bother her.

"Malcolm, you can't reward her for stealing." Hawke froze.

"It fed the twins, and you, did it not? She's making do and I won't fault her for it."

"She's an Amell, she's better than that!"

Her father’s voice rose. "She's a Hawke, she'll survive to do better than that. She understands. Maker, I wish she didn't have to but she does. You see a reward for stealing but did you watch her share it with the twins? If she's so selfish why would she do that? Is it selfish to not want to starve?"

Her mother's voice became hysterical. "And when she gets caught? What then? The embarrassment of it."

"The embarrassment of it?" Hawke could picture him running his hands through his hair. "You're not worried about them taking her away or discovering your mage child or husband? You could lose all three of us just like that." He snapped his fingers.

Hawke hung her head as she heard her mother start to cry. "What am I supposed to do, love?"

She could imagine them, like so many fights before. Her father would stand away a moment before wrapping her mother in his arms and petting her hair. There were usually no more words then. "The arl is looking for maids for the season. You and the twins could live in the estate. Hawke and I could manage out here."

"She has a name."

"Maybe you shouldn't have told her she was a rose with too many thorns to be loved and not pretty enough to make up for it." He was quiet a moment. "Consider the job, Leandra. Either way, we are going back to Lothering in the spring and we won't leave again."

"I hate Lothering!"

"You hate anywhere that isn't Kirkwall. Maybe you should have thought about that before you ran away with me." Hawke watched her father stride out from other side of the wagon. He scooped up the twins to bundled them off to bed with kisses and stories. She scraped the tears from her eyes before glaring at the apple in her hand. She offered it to the horse who took it happily. She stroked his nose before burying her head in his neck to cry again.

She had left in the early dawn light and headed into Denerim. She stopped at a water trough to look at her reflection, a few splashes of water removed the most offending bits of dirt and the braid in her hair made it look nice. She pulled her hood low on her face, the dark brown material long since threadbare and patched. The overcoat’s long sleeves covered her hands and bottom fell almost to her knees, oversized but practical. She adjusted her bag and headed for the chantry. It was too early for the daily handouts but the morning service was going. Hawke crept quietly into the Chantry and took a seat. The vaulted ceiling fascinated her with its ornate details, the carvings and gold work. There was more money in the art work alone then she could dream of. But it was the books that held her eyes, every alcove that lined the hall was full of them. They had three books in their wagon and Hawke could recite them word for word. These books were new, she wanted to run her fingers down their spines before opening them flat in her hands to breathe in their scent. She wanted to know what secrets their pages held, what languages they spoke. She was jolted from her daydream by the chanter getting louder.

"Those who steal from their brothers and sisters Do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind. Our Maker sees this with a heavy heart." She droned. Hawke grimaced. That's all fine and dandy when you have enough food but surely the maker didn't intend little kids like Bethany and Carver to starve. The service wrapped up and she filed out with the rest. She got in line with another girl, a gangly blonde elf.

"Not from here?" Hawke shook her head. "This is crap. But it's food innit." She just nodded. "Eh a quiet one." The elf girl grabbed her food. "Back side of the market. We can find some real food. Pies."

Hawke grabbed hers and followed her out. "I have to take this to my family. But I'll be back." She grinned. "I'm Hawke."

The elf stuck out her hand matching her grin. "Sera." They shook and tore off in their directions.

Hawke ran all the way back to the wagon. "Mama, I got the Chantry food. It's not much better then yesterday." She rounded the wagon and a strange man grabbed her. Leandra was by the fire, holding Bethany and Carver. "Mama?"

"I'll give 20 sovereigns for her. She'd have a good life in the Crows. I saw her yesterday and she's a good thief. You'd only have two mouths to feed." The man's breath stank.

Leandra continued to stare. "I don't know, Serah."

Tears stung Hawke's eyes as anger blazed under her skin. "Just go ahead and sell me. I'm just an embarrassment anyway." Leandra flinched and nodded, the man's grip loosened. Hawke spun from his grasp, pulling the knife from her belt and she shoved it under his chin. Blood ran hot down her arm and she pulled it free as he gurgled. He dropped at her feet as Leandra began to scream. Hawke ignored her. She cleaned the knife off on the man's clothes and drug his body away from their campsite and into the woods. At the river bed, she stripped him of anything useful. He had ten sovereigns and some smaller coin and a knife. Hawke shoved his body into the river and watched it float downstream. She cleaned her knife again with sand before returning to the wagon.

Leandra stood between her and the twins. "You're a murderer."

She stared numbly at her mother. “He wasn’t a Crow if I could do that.” Hawke began to shake, she stared at the blade. The tip dipped towards the ground but she tightened her hand and straightened her spine. She tucked it back in to her belt as she lifted her chin to look her mother in the eye. “You would really sell me? For 20 sovereigns? That’s all I’m worth to you.” She started walking away from the campsite. Leandra called out after her but she kept going. She had plans in town after all.

When Hawke returned late that night, her mother said nothing to her. Malcolm greeted her with a cheery smile, obviously he had no idea what had transpired at their wagon that day. Hawke stood before Leandra until she looked up at her, her bag bulging on her shoulder. She reached into the outer pocket and pulled out 20 sovereigns, dropping them at the mother’s feet. “I earned it. Every copper, with more work lined up tomorrow.” Her soft voice took a poisonous edge. “Maybe we should sell you for less than you’re worth.”

She left her speechless parents at the fire. She smiled as her mother stammered to explain what was going on to her father and laughed when his magic crackled over her skin. She settled between the twins and opened her bag. Two shiny daggers, not the belt knife she had picked up earlier, with sheaths, a real belt with pouches for herbs and powders, and two sets of lock picks; the beginnings of a master thief’s kit. Tomorrow she would get the rest. Her new friend was an endless wealth of information and Hawke was going to make a name for herself.


	7. For a Season

Old Freckles finally died. Hawke wasn't sure if horses went on to the Maker but she dried her tears and hoped so. Her parents were arguing over the cost of a new horse, it was money they barely had. If they bought the horse, they would have to spend the winter on the road instead of buying a house in Lothering like they planned. She fingered the hilts at her waist. Her friend had disappeared, the rich old lady she lived with had decided she needed to stay inside. Hawke smiled as she strolled out of their camp, dawn glowing softly. That was for the best, some things are better off done alone. She pulled her hood up as she walked into Denerim.

Most people ignored a child underfoot, especially a quiet one. Hawke made her rounds of the inns in the outer ring of the city with no luck. She headed for the market place as her stomach growled. The month they had spent here had put some meat on her bones finally. She didn't even slow her stride anymore as she grabbed a pie from the baker's stall. She bit into the warm flaky crust, smiling as the cherry syrup dripped down her chin. She caught it up with a finger, sucking the sticky tartness from it. She wandered toward Fort Drakon, they had a stable for the guard. She was willing to trade work for a horse, somehow she would find the time.

The stable was easy to find, summer was descending on Ferelden and the smell was becoming unbearable. She was just outside the stable when she heard two men talking. "What about that one in the back stall?"

"The rowan? Nobody can ride him. He's jumpy, useless for patrol. We'll send him to the kennel master this afternoon." She ducked out of sight as they exited the barn, chatting about their wives. She waited until they were out of sight and slipped into the cool darkness.

Dust danced along the sunbeams and the air smelled musty and sweet. She made her way to the far stall where a massive rowan Forder was moping. She made soft noises extending her hand over the door. He snuffled it gently. She glanced down the barn and smiled. "Want a new home, boy?" His ears ticked forward as she slid open the bar.

She pulled an apple from her pocket and offered it to him. He munched happily as she ran her hands softly down his big neck. "I think you are the biggest horse I've ever seen. Do you have a name?" He blew her hood back making her laugh. "I'm going to call you Red. Do you like bridles, Red?" He bounced his head.

She grabbed the bridle and he bowed low so she could slip it on. "What a good boy." She placed a kiss on his nose. "How about a saddle?" He stomped. "No? That's okay. I don't need one." She clambered on to the stall door and tentatively lowered herself on to his back. He danced in place a moment, feeling the bit in his mouth and deciding he liked how she held it. "Let's go, Red."

They bolted through the barn, knocking over the returning stable hands as Hawke whooped for joy. One went to call out to the guard but the other held him back with a shake of his head. The massive horse and his speck of a rider tore through Denerim and then out to the family's wagon. They came to a skidding halt, Hawke triumphantly tossing back her hood and bowed proudly from her hard kept seat, ignoring the pain in her thighs. Malcolm and Leandra looked up from counting their money with shocked faces, the twins were exuberant with joy.

Malcolm found his voice first as he scrambled to his feet. "Where did you find him?"

"Fort Drakon." She slid off his back and took the bridle off him. "This is all his tack but he likes apples. His name is Red."

He held his hand out to the horse, who gave an approving snort before tearing into the grass. "Hawke, he must have cost a fortune."

She shrugged, her expression becoming distant. "Nothing to worry about, papa. I took care of it."

Leandra's voice was so sharp it could cut stone. "You stole him."

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, mama." Hawke smiled sweetly. "I told the Chanter I would be back to work on the books this morning and I have another job this afternoon. I'll be home after dark."

"Rose." Leandra called after her retreating form. "You're still a child, sweetheart. Stay here."

Hawke looked back over her shoulder, her eyes cheerful. "They have story books and don't mind if I stop and read as long as it's to the old blind lady. I'm dragging it out."

She greeted Red first when she returned to camp, his lead tied some little ways from the wagon giving him plenty of room. The big horse swished his tail, nuzzling her fingers and searching her pockets until she produced an apple. Her parents were talking softly by the fire and she crept closer, hiding in the shadows and settling beside the wagon to listen.

"Where's all the money Hawke's been giving you?" Malcolm asked, an unusually hard edge to his voice. "25 sovereigns a day for the past month is a lot of money, Leandra."

She turned away from him, her voice as steely. "I want nothing to do with her thieving."

He sighed. "Love, she's worked hard for that money. Every afternoon she cleans rooms and the bar at one of the inns and sings for the supper time crowd." When her face whipped back to him he shrugged. "I followed her one day. I was worried. The morning she spent doing odd jobs. Every coin she gives you she earns. If she makes anything thieving, she keeps it for herself." He kept it to himself that she might be so good that he didn't notice her stealing anything.

Leandra's eyes watered and she hung her head in shame. "I've been throwing them in the creek after she goes to bed."

"Damn your pride, Lea." He spoke softly and she began to cry.

Hawke called out softly. "I've been picking them up every night." They startled, searching for her in the dark. She stood and wandered into the circle of firelight. "I followed you that first night, mama. And I've followed you every night and got back every sovereign." She rubbed at her elbow, toe of her boot digging into the dirt.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop, Rose." Leandra admonished. Hawke stared at her drolly. Her mother continued, softening. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have believed me?" She countered, lightning flashing in her young eyes. "I stole the horse. I steal food. I steal clothes for me and the twins. You tried to sell me. Why should I tell you when I do something good?" Leandra stared at her hands. Hawke turned to her father. "The inn is offering me a room off the kitchen with two other girls, I can keep my tips and they'll keep paying me four sovereigns a day to sing for the evening and afternoon crowd plus helping with the rooms. It's for the rest of the season. I get one day off a week and my mornings are my own. I'd make more."

He sighed. "Sweetheart, you're twelve."

"Thirteen next week, and they don't know how old I am anyway." She interrupted.

He shook his head. "No. I let you do a lot I shouldn't but that's not going to happen." He cut off her protest. "I need an assistant." She froze, hope on her face. "You can sing and you are wonderful with languages. Most of my work is in the evenings at the palace. See if you can sing there for the lunch crowd and then join me in the evenings." She nodded, her body shaking with excitement and he grinned. "Nobles tip pretty good. You'll need a nice dress."

She squeaked. "I know the perfect place." She shook herself, letting a solemnness drift over her. "I need to count my money. I can't steal from that one. That lady is nice and she gives to people when she can."

He chuckled. "A thief with honor, little bird?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Papa, I don't steal from people who don't deserve it." She wandered to the wagon and climbed inside.

Leandra jabbed his ribs. "Don't encourage her."

Malcolm gave her his own arched look. "She only steals from assholes, love. Even you can't argue that."

She shook her head. "You think she will do well at the palace?"

He smiled, tucking her hand into his elbow. "I think our little Hawke is going to fly."

Hawke made her apologies at the Chantry, promising to return the next morning, before wandering to Tilda's dress shop. The door rang cheerily when she pushed it in. It was a store for the well to do merchants and farmers, she kept brushing her hands across her shirt. It was clean but well, it had been old when she had gotten it, her mother was decent with a needle and thread but the patches had patches. Tilda smiled when she saw her. "Hawke! Welcome, darlin! I'm afraid I don't have any deliveries today."

She smiled shyly. "I need a dress, Lady Tilda."

The sparkle in the older woman's violet eyes burned brighter. "What's the occasion, darlin? Hopefully not a boy."

Hawke snorted, uneasiness forgotten. "No. I'm going to start singing at the palace with my papa in the evening and translating his stories for any visitors. He can't speak common and the rest all at once." She shrugged. "I don't know how many visitors there would be."

Tilda tapped her fingers on her counter. "Your papa is the bard Malcolm Hawke?" Hawke nodded. "Well then, let's get you a dress, darlin. Black would suit you. You're so pale with those big blue eyes." She went to a rack and started sorting. "But nothing frilly or flouncy, we want you taken seriously. You're there to perform not as an ornament."

"I talk too much to be an ornament." Hawke's nose wrinkled.

The older woman chuckled pulling a dress down. "This one I think. Go try it on."

She turned the fabric over in her hands, she had never felt anything so soft. She tossed off her clothes and pulled it over head, grateful for the quick wash the creek provided even with the unscented, rough soap. Clean was clean. It draped gently to the floor, the round neckline sat delicately on her shoulders, and the short lacy sleeves reminded her of butterflies. She smiled, twirling in the mirror. "How does it look, darling?"

Hawke stepped out for inspection. Tilda smiled. "You look like a princess now." Hawke grinned and she laughed noting the missing tooth. "Perfect."

Hawke grabbed her bag from her pile of clothes. "How much?"

Tilda shook her head. "Tell them where you got it. But I won't charge you for it." Hawke shook her head. "No. Not a copper. I see you feed those other children and take care of old Marlo when I know your family is in rough straits. You have a good heart, Rose Hawke, and good things will come your way when the Maker can arrange it." She nodded, eyes watering and then threw herself around Tilda in a tight hug. She hugged her back. "Now, go on! Make those nobles cry instead of this old dressmaker."

Malcolm was right. She did feel like she flying. She spun in her dress in the little alcove set aside for entertainers as he packed up his lute. He laughed. "Enjoyed yourself, little bird?"

"Yes! Arlessa Isolde said my Orlesian is perfect and she taught me a dance." She glowed and did a little jig, her pockets jingling. "I can't wait to count my gold."

"You are more of a raven then a hawk I think." She flapped her arms and cawed. "Where are you keeping all your earnings anyway?"

She grinned. "There's a loose board under my bed and I keep it in pouches. Carver complained about the noise when the wagon moves but I told him its poppets to keep him from turning into a potato."

He groaned. "Rose Hawke."

"Papa Hawke." She mimicked him. "If he wasn't insufferable, I wouldn't have to do it." He sighed heavily and led them from the palace.

Halfway to the wagon, Hawke spoke again. "Should I give mama half my earnings from tonight?"

He glanced down at his daughter, she was staring resolutely at the ground. "We don't need your money, sweetheart. You don't have to work harder than most adults."

She looked at him and rolled her eyes, making it comical enough that he couldn't be upset. "I know it helps." She crossed her arms, growing up before his eyes. "I want a home. We've never had one. I have friends sometimes but not like in the books. I want to leave on adventures and come back to a warm fire. And make friends I can count on and grow up with."

He smiled at her. "If you want, you can give half but keep some for yourself. And don't work all day, little bird. You can have fun on the road."

She shifted, eyes casting about the road. "I don't want to stay at the wagon with mama and the babies."

He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't say that. You'll find something, start with reading every book in the Chantry." She grinned up at him then, back to being his little bird.

It was a good season with Hawke as his assistant. She translated his stories for visiting nobles, sang as his accompaniment and sang alone with increasing confidence, and she had taken to learning mummer’s tricks. Her sleight of hand tricks was always sure to please and the day she cartwheeled and flipped down the length of the great table for the servants was met with applause from King Maric. She froze upside down before turning herself over and executing a curtesy that would have shamed her mother if she had been present. When they left for the season, he requested she return with her father the next winter. He agreed, winter months were a better job without the military campaigns and people having nothing better to do then be entertained and pay their entertainment.

Hawke pulled up her board as the wagon swayed. They were leaving for Lothering, to find a home. She knew her parents locked chest was full for the first time in her life, so was the food cabinet. She ran her fingers over the daggers she had barely used, lovingly traced the belt with its pouches, all nestled in her hoard of gold. She giggled. "I'll have tell papa I'm not a raven either, I'm a dragon." There was a small silver mabari statue, next to statues of Andraste for Bethany and a knight for Carver. There were several other treasures she had picked up in the palace that she hadn't been able to convince herself to fence. It had been a good summer, the best summer of her life even. Lothering might home once they get there, but she knew she would always come back to Denerim for a season.


	8. A Home, a Bear, and Friends

The house they bought in Lothering was nice. It was close to the edge of town, the last on the street and three buildings down and across from the baker. Malcolm claimed they got a good deal on it because it was closer to the Kocari Wilds, they would be the first to see the Chasind when they came into town. Hawke was looking forward to when that happened but it was a sentiment she kept to herself. It took less than an hour to unload the wagon, with the twins big enough to unload their meager belongings.

"I'm sorry you have to share a room with the twins, Hawke." Malcolm lamented.

She shrugged, eyeing the open loft with its big window above the living area. "Will we be using that?" He shook his head. "Can it be my room then? Like a nest."

"We can't fit a bed up there."

Leandra interrupted, carrying her stew pot and pan. "We can get a mattress up there, and hang some curtains. She's old enough she needs her own space, Malcolm." Hawke's eyebrows were high on her forehead as her gaze followed her mother around the house. "Besides, we have plenty of room to store things elsewhere."

He nodded. "Alright. The Hawke can have her nest."

She grinned and went out to the wagon, pulling up her board. They had ended up wintering at Denerim as a family and moved to Lothering that next spring. Her hoard had grown considerably. She began stuffing it by the fistful into her pack. People came and went, checking out the newcomers and she ignored them. There would be time enough later to make friends when she went looking for work. She noticed a curly haired redhead pass her twice and she finally stopped the third time. "Who are you?"

"Rose Hawke." She angled her body between the girl and her hoard. She almost had the cubby empty. "You?"

"Mira Duggan, I live across the street. My da is the leathersmith."

"Mines a bard." She ran her hand along the cubby, it was empty now. She settled the board silently back in place.

"Why are you here then?" The girl tossed a springy curl back from her face.

"Houses are expensive in Denerim. He wants to get on for the summer season at Redcliffe since we winter at Denerim. This is kind of the middle. We had family here once, Eleanor Bardsley."

Mira made a soft sound of appreciation. "She had the roses. It was sad when her place burned down."

Hawke shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, a shame."

"I'll let you finish moving." Mira smiled brightly. "But later you should come with me to meet David. His da is the guard captain." Hawke hoped her peak in interest wasn't too noticeable. "And I'll show you the Chanter's board. They have two, one for the adventurers and one for kids. It's a good way to make spare coppers."

Hawke fiddled with the strap on her pack. "What about earning sovereigns?"

Mira blinked at her. "Well, you could ask. Somebody might give you an apprenticeship. I want Jess to take me on at the bakery. I do all the baking for my family and help at the Chantry most days for the poor folks. But most people want to pay adults sovereigns."

"I work harder than most adults." Hawke shouldered her bag and shut the wagon. "I'll see you soon, Mira."

It was the next day before she got away but Mira was easy to find with her red hair. The young man walking beside her was tall and lanky, easy on the eyes she decided but he acted like he owned whatever he talked to. Spending two seasons at court had opened her eyes to a great many things, and one of them was what kind of boy she didn't want anything to do with. But his father was the guard captain, and with two apostates and her hobbies, it wouldn't hurt to be on his good side if he had one. She plastered her sweetest smile on. "Mira!"

The girl grinned. "Rose! This is David Isherwood."

She stuck out her hand, scowling. "Hawke, please. I don't like my first name."

He took it and then raised her knuckles to his lips. "A pity, for you are so pretty."

Mira chortled. "Really?"

He rolled his eyes has he dropped her hand. "What? You can't blame me. Every girl here I've known since I was born. And I'm 15, it's time to start thinking about that."

"If you made it to 15 without thinking about it, you're doing better than most." Hawke drawled out.

He burst out laughing. "Welcome to Lothering. Blah blah blah. There. Now you can tell my dad I gave you an official introduction." Hawke wondered if she pegged him wrong, but his hand flew back to Mira's elbow when another boy approached and he glowered. "Stanton."

"Captain's boy." The boy had dark hair, pale skin, and a startle of blue eyes that he turned from Mira, who was shaking, to Hawke. "Who's your new little friend?"

She cut off David's answer. "I'm Hawke." She stuck out her hand again, her smile so sweet it made her teeth ache.

He took it, his hand was clammy against hers. "A bird, then? Had your wings broken yet?" She kept her expression pleasant as she jerked him forward and cracked her forehead into his nose. He staggered away, hand cupping his face as blood ran down it. "You bitch!"

She sang after him. "You wish I had been raised by mabari, you nug humper!" Mira and David stared at her. "What?"

"You just broke his nose!" David stuttered out.

Her eyebrows rose. "Yeah? Surely I'm not the first. He's a creep."

Mira started giggling. "Finally! He is a creep, but his dad owns the inn, so nobody would touch him." Hawke scowled. "What's that face?"

"I was hoping to get a job there. I have a good voice."

David shook his head. "Our inn doesn't use that kind of entertainment, if you catch my meaning. And polite girls don't do that other work."

Hawke patted his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to do it. "I'm not polite."

Mira was bent double with her laughter. David flushed brighter than the girl's hair. "You're too young, the Reverend Mother would have a cow."

Hawke felt her lips twitch at trying to contain her mirth. "That would be a sight to see."

"Andraste's flaming knickers, you're serious?" Hawke lost it and began cackling. He stared down at the laughing girls, who were clinging to each other now for support. "You are terrible people." He walked away.

Hawke wiped the tears from her eyes. "Maker, is it always that easy?"

Mira shook her head. "No. He really must think you are pretty. I don't envy you that."

"Oh, you two aren't?"

"Void no." She made gagging noises. "That's like kissing your brother."

Hawke's whole face wrinkled. "I have a brother, Carver. I'd rather kiss a bear."

Mira snorted. "We have a bear problem at one of the farms. They are offering 15 sovereigns to whoever brings it down." She got a distant dreamy look in her eyes. "To the void with the gold, I want the bear skin. My room gets cold."

Her mind drifted back to the daggers in the trunk under the window back home. "Are you any good with a weapon?"

"I'm fair with a bow. Da insisted I learn, all sorts of animals like how his shop smells." Mira eyed her. "You got a plan?"

"Let's go hunt a bear."

 

Hawke tossed Mira her bloody arrows and set to gutting the beast. "No one is going to believe this."

"I'm not sure I believe it."

Hawke chuckled. "That was a good shot by the way."

"Good shot." She snorted. "You dropped out of the tree like some vengeful spirit. It probably scared it to death."

Between the two girls they were able to haul the bear back into town and to Captain Isherwood's home and office that contained the town's two holding cells. Several folks stopped and stared as Hawke rapped her knuckles against the wood. The Captain answered, hair greying at his temples but still tall and stalwart. He looked at the two girls and the bear and blinked twice before clearing his throat. "Bounty was 15 sovereigns, ladies. Is that acceptable?"

Hawke grinned. "Yes, sir."

David peaked out from around his father. "Hey, Hawke." He saw her blood covered leathers and then the bear. "Sweet baby Andraste. You took out that thing?"

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Mira helped. If you hadn't been so offended, you could have come with us." He stuck his tongue out at her and she responded in kind.

Captain Isherwood chuckled. "Now, children, behave. Come in while I do the paperwork, ladies."

They wandered in behind the man. Hawke noted the nice furnishings, most were of Orlesian make instead of Ferelden and that question was answered when David's mother came to greet them. "Mama, this is Rose Hawke, the girl I was telling you about."

"Pleasure to meet you." Her accent was thick but her smile was kind. Hawke responded in Orlesian and the woman's smile widened as she dragged her into the kitchen. They chatted at length while David's head whipped back and forth between them. Captain Isherwood called from his office and the older woman grabbed her hand. "You come visit anytime you please, young lady."

Hawke grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

"Please, call me Eliza." Her eyes sparkled.

Mira jostled her shoulder as they walked down the hallway. "I've never been invited into the kitchen and I've known them since I was born."

Hawke shrugged shyly.  The captain waved them over. "Sign here for the bounty." Hawke picked up the pen, signing her full name with a flourish before trying to hand it to Mira. She backed away, chewing at a nail.

"I can't write." She continued more softly. "Or read."

Hawke's mouth fell open before she snapped it shut. She turned to the man who was watching the girls with quiet interest. "Do you have a spare piece of paper?" He nodded handing it over to her, a small smile forming under his moustache. She waved Mira over. "Here, I helped teach the twins." She wrote Mira's full name in a simple script, the girl watching over her shoulder. "Think you can do it?"

She nodded slowly before taking the pen. Hawke gently corrected how she was holding it. Mira traced Hawke's writing first and then wrote below it. It was wobbly but her face shone with pride. "My name." Hawke grinned and nodded. Mira added her name to the bounty and then beamed up at the captain.

He handed over the bag of sovereigns. "Now, you girls can do what you want with the bear but split the money between you and don't spend it all at once. The butcher will take the bear, if you don't want it."

Hawke shook her head. "If Mira's family doesn't want part of the meat, my family will enjoy it. But she wanted the skin."

"Da taught me how to treat it." She bounced on her heels.

He nodded. "I'll let you know when the next one comes in, the wilds are always sending us beasts that the guard doesn't have time for."

"And next time, I'll aid the lovely huntresses!" David added with a cheesy grin.

"Yes, we needed someone to carry the damn thing after we killed it." Hawke's eyes danced as everyone laughed.

David bowed. "It's better than being stuck listening to Stanton whine. Want help getting it home?"


	9. A Fishing Trip

Spring and summer were passing all too quickly in Lothering. Hawke, Mira, and David had become the go to when there was a wildlife problem in the village, or when someone wanted their house painted. Captain Isherwood had even hired the trio to help with the Midsummer festivities since they were too young or too old to partake in many of them. She was almost sad to be leaving her friends.

"You're going to Denerim already?" David grabbed her pack, securing it to Red, and Hawke rolled her eyes at the chivalrous deed.

"Yeah. Papa plays at the palace for the winter season every year and I translate for any foreign dignitaries. But we are making a stop at Lake Calenhad first to go fishing."

Mira sighed longing. "I wish I could go. I've always wanted to go to a city."

Hawke grinned. "Denerim is nice and all but I want to go to Val Royeaux. That's a city. Or Kirkwall!"

"Why Kirkwall?" David asked as he tried to take Beth's pack from her and she ducked under the horse with it. Red stomped at him in warning so he followed her warily.

"It's where mama's family is from." She strapped on the pack. "I have grandparents there, they are nobles. I could be a new person there, work as an ambassador or maybe they have a library."

David chuckled. "I could see you as an ambassador, you have the experience trading with the Chasind. You would get bored sitting in books all the time."

"Why would you do that when you could be a noble?" Mira's nose wrinkled. "Why are you here and poor?"

Hawke's hand froze before tightening the girth and David scowled at Mira. "Because my parents married without their permission and they eloped." She swallowed hard.

Mira cooed. "That's so romantic." David shook his head and patted Hawke's shoulder. "Promise you'll write?"

"Promise you'll write back? Both of you?"

"Yes!" David grabbed both the girls in a bone crushing hug. "We'll miss you, Hawke."

Mira's mother called. The redhead plastered a kiss on Hawke's cheek. "I'll make sure your ma and Carver eat." She ran off to see what the ruckus was.

David settled his other hand on Hawke's shoulder, dwarfing her frame. Mira always acted her age, it was easy to forget that the blue eyes staring up at him now were younger by a couple years. He licked his lips. "Is Bethany going to be okay going with you?"

She nodded. "Papa knows how to hide in plain sight, she's been doing it for years too." She wrapped her hand around his and leaned against them, a smile on her face. "I'll keep them safe otherwise."

He ran a thumb along her cheekbone, she had filled out from the half-starved waif that had appeared the past spring under his mother's careful eye. She was growing into a beautiful woman, who was already gently bruising hearts with her quiet disinterest. "I know. But who will keep you safe?"

Her grin widened. "Red." She grew serious a moment and then wrapped him in a full hug. "We will be fine, David. I'll write as soon as we get the lake and again at every town. But thank you for worrying."

"Are you ever going to tell Mira?" He spoke into her hair; she was already so much smaller than he was. She shook her head. "Why?"

She sighed tiredly. "Her da made some comments about people like papa and Beth and she agreed with him." She shrugged. "She's my friend, but sometimes you can't even trust friends."

She wanted to smack the pity from his eyes and then grind it in to the dirt but he grabbed her up again in another hug. "You've got me, Hawke. And I'll keep your secrets." He released her with a grin. "Besides, what would I do without your cookies?"

She snorted. "You won't get fat this winter."

"I make them. She just stands there and looks pretty." Bethany huffed out of the house with their father trailing behind her. "Rose can't cook to save her life unless it's an egg and toast."

"Brat." Hawke mussed her hair with a grin.

"Giant butt."

"Potato."

"Girls." Malcolm managed to sternly reprimand them before ducking behind his horse to shake his head with a silent laugh. "Are we ready to go, Hawke?"

She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "Yeah, papa. David helped."

He shook the young man's hand, wondering how many years he'd have before he was knocking on his door to ask for Hawke's hand at the Chantry. "Thank you, serah."

The boy grinned. "Good fishing, Messere Hawke." He half turned away and then flushed to his ears before asking Hawke. "Want a boost?"

She eyed him warily and then leapt into the saddle. She gazed down at him. "I could kick you in the head from up here." Malcolm figured at least another two years and then she broke into an easy grin at the boy's crestfallen face. "But you could hand up Beth, Red can carry us better then Charger. And she is too little to reach." Malcolm smiled warmly as he mounted his horse.

"Yeah, but she isn't you." He mumbled towards her knee. When he turned to Bethany he had a smile and a sparkle in his eye. "Up you go, brat." He tossed her up easily in front of Hawke, his fingers lingering a moment on Hawke's hip that she ignored.

Leandra called tearfully from the door. "Mind your father, Bethany. See you in the spring." Malcolm rode the horse right to the door and bent low to give her one last kiss that left her smiling.

They started to ride away and David climbed up on the fence. "Remember to write!"

Hawke turned and waved. "You remember to write back!"


	10. Darkness Falls

Hawke lounged beside the lake with her book. Bethany was practicing her magic quietly, burbling the water and launching stones. Papa had gone some ways up the bank to find fish for their supper away from her noise. Hawke let her head fall back enjoying the peace. Once they reached Denerim, they wouldn't have a moment to themselves and the gently blowing leaves took her waking eyes to the fade and sleep.

Bethany shook her shoulder. "Rose." The shaking grew more frantic. "Hawke!"

She sat bolt upright at the terror in Bethany's voice. The sun was beginning to set but it was too early for any night predators. She scanned the area, settling into a crouch and wishing her daggers weren't with the horses. "What?"

Wide blue eyes bored into hers and her voice shook. "Templars." She pointed away from the direction of their camp but Hawke could now hear the clank of armor in the bush.

Hawke swallowed down her fear. Lake Calenhad was always a calculated risk, but the Templars rarely patrolled their own shores unless someone had escaped. She took Bethany's hand. "Follow me and stay quiet." She led them quickly and quietly back to their campsite, plan after plan forming in her head only to be tossed aside. She let go of her breath when Malcolm was readying the horses.

Relief etched across his face. "Thank the Maker. There are Templars headed towards my fishing spot, I was getting the horses and then coming to get you."

Bethany began to cry as Hawke spoke softly. "There's a second group behind us."

He shook his head and tossed Beth up on to Red. "Then we ride. Hey." He brushed a tear from Beth's cheek. "What do I always say during your lessons?"

She sniffed and sat straighter in the saddle. "Fly free."

He smiled and tapped her nose. "Fear is not freedom." Hawke went to mount up behind her as a young boy dashed into their clearing. He froze, staring at them from behind blond hair. He was dripping wet but there was no mistaking Circle robes. Malcolm stood between the children. "Who are you?"

His eyes flickered from Malcolm to the girls. "A Mage. I'm escaping. I swam."

Malcolm nodded. "There's two groups of Templars coming." Hawke mounted up and he held out his hand to the boy. "Come on, you'll be safe with us."

The boy hesitated and the first Templar entered the clearing, his sword raised. Hawke grabbed her reins. "Papa!"

"Go, girls!" With a backward glance, Hawke sent Red galloping into the underbrush. The sounds of battle followed them.

At the first creek, she turned Red inland, keeping him on the rocks. It was a risk, one wrong step and they would be in the water or worse, Red would be hurt. But she let him pick his way as quickly as he dared. Bethany sobbed quietly in her arms. "Hawke, we have to go back. We have to save Papae." She tightened her arms around her but kept silent. They rode until darkness fell and she took them out of the creek and into a glen. She slid off the horse and held her arms up to Beth who thumped into her. The sisters held each other tightly for a moment before Hawke let her go and then started taking the tack off of Red. Bethany watched her with somber eyes. “What about papae?”

Hawke sighed. “I don’t know.” Bethany sniffled and fat tears began rolling down her cheeks. Hawke dropped the gear on the ground and let Red go so he could roll and eat. The little girl curled up on the ground, her silent crying making her whole body shudder. Hawke chewed her lip and hooked her hair behind her ears before kneeling beside her. “When the moon is high we will go back. The rule is if we get separated to go back to Lothering. If he’s not there, we will head home.”

“But what if he is?”

Hawke pulled her sister into her lap. “Don’t say that, Beth. It’ll be alright, you’ll see.” She started petting her hair and rocking them.

She cried harder. “We’re all alone.”

Hawke gave her a hard shake. “So? We have each other. I will always keep you safe.” Bethany met her sister’s stormy eyes, sea eyes their grandma called them, with all the power of the sea behind them. “I will always keep you safe.”

“Promise?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Bethany made a face. “You told me Carver was adopted.” Hawke snorted and she smiled. “But not when it mattered. Tell me a story?”

“I don’t tell stories anymore, remember?” Beth’s face fell and she hurried on. “But I’ll sing.”

 

They rode back to the campsite in silence, the moon shining overhead giving them plenty of light. The campsite was destroyed. Ice barriers were still melting, fire scorched the ground and trees, the bitter sulfuric smell of lightning lingered still in the air, and in the center lay Papa, so still and ghostly in the light. Hawke swallowed hard. “Stay on Red, Bethany.” She slid off and walked slowly to him.

His hair had come free from its tie, a dark halo around his pale face. Hawke knelt, reaching out even though she knew his skin would be cold. “Hawke?” Bethany’s voice trembled. Wounds marred his flesh and clothes but there was no blood, just the barest scent of iron that stuck at the back of her throat.

“Oh, papa.” She wrapped her arms around herself a moment before straightening and casting her gaze about for their saddlebags. They were half hidden behind an ice barrier but she grabbed them and made her way slowly back to Red and Beth. She settled the bags against the big horse and tried to find her voice. “He’s gone, Bethany.”

The little girl nodded and slithered off the back of the horse. Hawke didn’t try to stop her as she approached his body. Her voice rang clearly in the night as she bowed her head.

“Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,  
I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm.  
I shall endure.  
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.  
  
Who knows me as You do?  
You have been there since before my first breath.  
You have seen me when no other would recognize my face.  
You composed the cadence of my heart.  
  
Through blinding mist, I climb  
A sheer cliff, the summit shrouded in fog, the base  
Endlessly far beneath my feet  
The Maker is the rock to which I cling.  
  
I cannot see the path.   
Perhaps there is only abyss.  
Trembling, I step forward,  
In darkness enveloped.  
  
Though all before me is shadow,  
Yet shall the Maker be my guide.  
I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.  
For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light  
And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.  
  
I am not alone. Even  
As I stumble on the path  
With my eyes closed, yet I see  
The Light is here.  
  
Draw your last breath, my friends.  
Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky.  
Rest at the Maker's right hand,  
And be Forgiven.”

She lifted her head. “Fly free, papa. We will see each other again.” A burst of magic left her and his body was engulfed in flames. Tears streamed down Hawke’s face as Bethany walked back to her. She scrambled up Red’s side and hauled herself into the saddle. She gazed down at her sister, her face serene. “We need to leave, sister.”

Hawke nodded numbly and climbed up behind her. Bethany handed her the reins. “That was perfect, Beth.” The smaller girl nodded and Hawke clicked to the horse, sending them into the night and towards Lothering, towards what was left of home.


	11. A Name That Was Given

Horse and girls stumbled wearily into Lothering at midafternoon, they had lost track of the days. The guard gave a shout and came running, looking them over in their bedraggled state. “Where’s Malcolm?”

Hawke’s voice was empty. “He’s dead.”

The man swallowed but took the reins from her hands. “Here, I’ll lead your horse in.” David came storming up, his joy quickly being swallowed by anger. “Boy, go get your parents.” He nodded and thundered off.

Captain Isherwood and Eliza met them at the Hawke residence. Hawke pulled her younger sister from the horse, bleary eyed and stumbling but carried her into the house. Leandra dropped a glass when she saw them and Carver eyed everyone warily. “Where’s your father?”

Eliza took Bethany from Hawke and took her to the twin’s room, Carver leading the way. Hawke looked longingly at a chair but settled on her heels, folding her arms behind her. “We were attacked by Templars. Papa is dead.”

The color left Leandra’s face. “You mean bandits. Why would Templars attack an innocent family?”

Captain Isherwood laid a hand on her shoulder. “Eliza and I know, Leandra. Malcolm told us.” She nodded, sinking into the chair. “How did it happen, Hawke?”

She swallowed. “We went to Lake Calenhad to go fishing.” He nodded encouragingly. “Papa went up the shore to fish while Bethany played in the water and I read. I fell asleep and then Beth was waking me up because Templars were coming.” Her shoulders slumped. “There was a boy, he said he escaped from the Circle. We got away but Papae stayed behind. There was so many of them and I didn’t think to scout.”

“To protect you.” She stared at the floor and he turned to Leandra. “I’m sorry, but given the circumstances I can’t do anything. I wish I could, but if I push the matter they will take one of your daughters away when they get here to investigate.”

Leandra’s face was hard. “I only have one daughter, Messere.” Hawke’s face emptied as she stared at her mother. “The other is a murderer and a thief and look what it has brought us.” She stood, stalking close to her oldest child. “Do you wish we had all been there? Then we would all be dead and you could live like you please with no consequences?” Hawke recoiled like she had been slapped. Mira and David appeared with food and wine in the doorway. “It’s your fault. You aren’t worthy of his name. You are a cuckoo taking from the others in the nest.” Hawke’s face hardened. “If you were so good, he would have come home today.”

“Leandra.” Captain Isherwood said gently.

“No, its fine, Captain.” She straightened her shoulders. “Papa named me, Mother, and you can’t take that from me. You can blame me, you can hate me, but I brought Beth home safe and she’s a daughter you can be proud of.” She snarled. “Go be proud of her and leave me alone.” Leandra slapped her and Hawke stood stalwart through the blow, catching her mother’s hand as the second one came whistling towards her. “Do not touch me.” She stormed out of the door and past their shocked faces, the air crackling and sulfuric in her wake.


	12. Love Shouldn't Hurt

Hawke knocked on Mira's window and let herself in. Her friend took one look at her swollen eyes, the palm print still red on her cheek and pulled her into a hug. Hawke let her head rest against Mira's shoulder, breathing in her scent. She smelled like baking bread, the warm smell complimenting her fiery curls. Hawke took a deep breath, it shuddered through her as she backed away and wrapped her arms around herself. "Mother is sleeping off the wine Eliza brought."

"She drank all of it?" Hawke nodded glumly. "The twins?"

"Went back with the Isherwoods for the night." She settled on the window sill, curled around herself and drew her knees up to her chest before settling her forehead against them. "Mira? What if it really is my fault?"

Mira sat on her bed chewing her lip and twirling a strand of hair. "How could it be? You always scout ahead and make sure everything is safe when we go out with David. You had to take care of Bethany."

Her muffled voice barely reached Mira's ears. "I didn't scout ahead. We've fished there for years and never seen a Templar, much less ones with something to prove, even that close to the Circle."

“Well, I guess it is a little your fault then.” Hawke burst in to tears. Mira softened and leaned forward to tug on her friend’s arm. “Hey, we all make mistakes.” The sobs grew heavier and Mira reached forward with both hands and pulled Hawke on to the bed beside her. She stood and pulled off her boots before gently pushing Hawke back on the bed. “Stay here tonight.”

“We should tell your parents I’m here.”

Mira shushed her, a dangerous smile playing on her lips as her hands traveled Hawke’s body. She smirked as she flushed. “Our little secret. I know a way to distract you.” She leaned forward, her larger chest rubbing against Hawke’s and stopped a breath away from her lips. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

“I haven’t kissed anyone.” Hawke squeaked.

Mira’s smile was dangerous and Hawke felt something slide down her spine. “Good.” Then her lips were against hers, demanding and practiced while Hawke fumbled. Mira laughed against her skin before devouring her.

Hawke was lost in the sensations. Mira was in twenty places at once, their clothes had disappeared like puffs of smoke and she wondered if this was some bizarre dream in the Fade, a desire demon here to taunt her. Mira’s teeth latched against her skin while her fingers played Hawke’s body and she let herself drown.

David found her the next morning on the edge of town, staring at the creek and twisting blades of grass into nothing. He flopped down beside her. “You never showed up last night. Mama is worried.”

She nodded absently. “I was with Mira.”

“That’s not what her folks said.” He scoffed until she turned to look at him. The dark circles were harsh beneath her eyes, but not as brutal as the bites that marred her flesh from below her ear until skin disappeared beneath her shirt. “What the void, Hawke?” Her wide eyes searched his beseechingly and then he felt her fingers tighten around his. “Mira?” She nodded. He stared at her a moment before a picking up a rock with his other hand and throwing it. “I guess that explains why you don’t like boys.”

A harsh laugh left her. “No, Maker. David, I do. I like everyone.” She shrugged lamely. “This just hurts, everywhere. With her, with mamae. Love hurts and I don’t want it.” Her voice softly broke.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It shouldn’t hurt, Hawke.” He kissed her hair and rocked her as she cried, turning her face into his shoulder and neck. “Love should never hurt.” She sobbed harder, soaking his shirt.

She took a stuttering breath and then another, her body leaning limply against him. “With Mira last night, it was nice. I felt wanted and special.” She wiped her tears from her eyes. “Then this morning she shoved me out the window with barely a smile, like I was.” Her voice trailed off searching for the word.

“Like you were a whore.”

She wiggled under his bruising grip but nodded. “I feel used and empty.” She frowned. “I don’t even want to talk about my mother.”

He chuckled darkly. “You don’t have to.” They watched the creek for a long time, the sun was almost at its height before he spoke again. “You aren’t going to go back to Mira’s bed, are you?”

Before she could answer, Mira bound up to them. "Rose!" She planted a kiss on her cheek before settling herself between them. "I couldn't find you anywhere, sugar, I was so worried." She noticed their joined hands and giggled. "Seeing David too then?" Her eyes took on a feral gleam that slid down Hawke's spine like it had the night before as she wedged her fingers between them before purring. "I don't share, sugar. I'm sure David won't mind you being all mine."

He cleared his throat staring over Mira's head at Hawke's stricken face. "She was upset, Mir, I was just being her friend."

Hawke's voice was so small. "I'm not a trinket."

Mira kissed her on lips and Hawke felt herself slipping. "Of course, you aren't. But no one appreciates you, Rose. Not like I did, not like I will."

Hawke shook her head, her voice half pleading and lost. "Mira."

David stood and hauled Hawke up by the back of her shirt and out of Mira's clutches. "She's grieving, Mirabelle. Stop."

Mira batted her lashes up at them and began to cry. Hawke looked at him, bewilderment etched into every feature and he shrugged as Mira began to wail. "I only want to help. I'm not good at anything like you two."

David shook his head as Hawke knelt beside her and walked away without looking back, missing Mira's triumphant smile over Hawke's shoulder that had too many teeth before she pulled her down on the ground beneath her. "You've been a bad girl, flirting with David. I think you should make it up to me, Rose." She kissed Hawke again, laughing as she felt her melt and kept laughing as Hawke brought her to brilliance while she marked her as her own.

It had taken Eliza and Bethany two days to convince the Chantry to hold a memorial service for Malcolm. Hawke stood before the mirror, eyeing her handiwork with disgust. Her mother's makeup made Mira's marks less obvious, she was grateful most were hidden under clothes especially the claw marks. She had spent the past two nights with her and afterwards Mira had spoken sweet nothings into her ear until she fell asleep. Of how special Hawke was, how perfect, how she understood her pain. Hawke stared into the reflection of her eyes, she felt hollow except for those hours in the night. She traced the line of her face in the mirror, her father's chin and nose. Her fist slammed into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand reflections that mocked her as the blood welled from her knuckles.

Leandra ran into the room and stopped as she saw her daughter stumble and fall to her knees in the shards. She backed away as blood seeped from the cuts on her knees, staining her dress crimson and the air filled with iron and sulfur. She closed the door as the feral scream shook the house to its foundations and ignored the silence that followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not what I had in mind for Mira. First relationships can always be a bit awkward but I didn't intend for Mira to be a predator and for it to be this toxic. But it works that she's a manipulative little shrew, especially later.


	13. Run

Hawke walked in late to the memorial, in a pair of darks pants and a black shirt, a crow amongst the mourners in white. She settled into the back of the Chantry and ignored the stares and whispered words. The makeup had melted off as her skin had burned from the inside and refused to stick when she had frantically tried to cover the marks again. Bloodied knuckles and teeth cursed skin would heal but the pitying looks scraped at what was left of her soul.

After the service, everyone went to the Isherwood's for something to eat. Hawke stayed in the garden after one too many questions and looks. Eliza had taken one look at her and encased her in a hug before leaving her to the tree and pumpkins. She didn't look up when the gate clicked open, not until boots entered her vision. She glared at Stanton. "Go away."

He laughed. "Not until I get what I pay for. Three silvers is a more generous than anyone else will offer you." She snarled at him and he smiled. "Come on, Rosie, we all know you only get those marks from fucking and everyone knows you're a frigid bitch." His eyes gleamed. "Unless you like getting knocked around first? Can't say I'd mind."

She swung at him, cursing when he ducked and grabbed at her. He whispered in her ear as his hand slid down her body. "Come on, Rosie. Let's have some fun, be a good little girl and I might throw in an extra copper."

She threw her head back, her eyes darkening with the contact before he released her and she shoved herself away and spun on him. She looked about wildly and grabbed Eliza's gardening knife, brandishing it before her. "I am no whore."

He eyed the knife warily as blood seeped from his nose. "That's the second time you've bloodied me."

She snarled. "Then you should have learned the first time, the third time is a charm." He nodded and backed away as Mira was entering the garden. She gasped softly and ran towards Hawke who stuck the knife in front of her again. Mira stopped. She spat out her words. "Don't touch me."

Mira's face fell and tears welled into her eyes. "Rose."

"That's not my name!" Hawke roared. She took a deep breath, her whole body shaking as her family and the Isherwoods began flooding into the garden. She threw the knife back at the bench. "My name is Hawke. My father named me. He loved me." Mira flinched back from the look on Hawke's face, still backed away when it was turned on Leandra who stood still. "I'm no one's whore, I'm no one's trinket. And I'm leaving." She stormed from the garden, leaving a dark path as blood dripped from her hands again.

She threw herself into her loft and tossed open the trunk. She tossed aside the leathers she had outgrown and had hoped to replace in Denerim. She left them for Carver but she strapped her daggers and belt to her waist and grabbed her pack. She tossed a couple pouches of sovereigns in and two changes of clothes. She added her healing kit and camp kits, it was only half full. Most of their supplies had been lost or damaged when, she took a deep breath and slammed the lid shut grabbing her cloak. It was still warm enough to travel without the tent. She let herself out the window and down the edge of the house.

She was saddling up Red when David crept into the barn. He closed the door softly behind him, peering through the crack. "They are looking everywhere for you." She stayed silent. "I know you have to go, Hawke. But I'll miss you all the same." An ugly sob escaped her throat and he left the door to wrap his arms around her. "Where are you going? I'll tell them tonight."

"Denerim." She spoke into his chest. He nodded. "I hate them all, David. But I hate me more."

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I think the sun shines out your ass." A laugh choked out of her. "Come on, let's get Red saddled and you gone." Between the two of them they had her ready in minutes, with Red impatiently chomping at the bit. David tossed her up into the saddle. "Did you grab something to eat?" She shook her head. He sighed, leaning his forehead against her knee. "Don't die of hunger out there. You can't write me then." He looked up at her, his brown eyes burning into her blue eyes. "And you will write?"

She laid her fingers gently against his cheek. "I will write you. I promise."

He nodded and opened the back door of the barn. "What should I tell Mira?"

Hawke's face hardened. "Tell her whatever you fucking want."

He gave her a wry grin. "You may not like that when you hear it, trouble." He smoothed a hand down Red's neck. "Take good care of her." He gave the horse a slap on the rear and sent him galloping from the stable and towards the road. He watched until Hawke was out sight and knew she never looked back as she fled Lothering.


	14. White Book, Black Book

Hawke had made it to Denerim as the farmers had finished harvesting in the fields. She patted Red's neck and headed towards the Pearl and her fence. The stable lad greeted her with a smile and didn't intrude while she rubbed down her own horse and carried her own things. She took a deep breath, her pack dangling over her shoulder and went in the back door to the underbelly of the city. Well-ordered chaos greeted her, servants bustled from table to table in the half light and when she pulled one's sleeve they sent her off with a nod in to Dawn's direction.

Hawke waited patiently while the middle aged woman finished her business with another, a customer by the looks of it. A fancy noble looking for a fun time, or looking to hire someone for a job. Dawn glared holes into the back of his head as he left but was all smiles for Hawke. "You're here late."

She settled on the stool. "Family problems."

"Ah." She nodded knowingly. "Happens." She slapped her hands on the counter. "What can I buy from you?"

Hawke shook her head. "I need work, Dawn."

"Now, love, you know I'm just a fence." Hawke stared at her until she sighed. "Fine, but you get caught, you know the rules." She pulled out a white book. "I've got some and I'll write you a list. There's a sweep that just came in. It's not a lot though, our other services have been needed more."

"I'll take some out of the black book." Dawn looked up and found storm eyes staring her down. She shook her head and Hawke cut her off. "I've killed before and I need the money. I'm not some squeamish child."

Dawn shivered. "Maker, girl, what happened?"

Hawke studied her a moment. "My father is dead."

"And that woman who birthed you placed it on your shoulders." Hawke nodded. She pulled out the black book. "Give me a moment to write them down. Memorize them and-."

"Then burn the list." Hawke smiled with too many teeth and Dawn wondered what she was unleashing on her city.

A sweep was easy enough, get in to the house and take anything of value that you could carry. Hawke was perched on a neighboring roof watching the place. It was a merchant's home, a lovely wife and two young children that he was taking out for the evening to make up for his infidelity that morning. She felt a little sick when he had come into the upstairs of the Pearl, her first official job. He had a favorite whore and she had hid in the wardrobe. A sovereign had gotten the girl's agreement to ask him questions, a second sovereign was a tip. He had droned on and on about his lovely young wife but how he was too virile for any one woman. She rolled her eyes again, more like she was exhausted chasing his spawn and told him to hump a nug. They loaded up into the carriage and left so Hawke made her way down the side of the house and through the back door.

Kitchen was empty, they weren't so well to do they had their servants living with them. She ignored the gaudy and fake furnishings in the downstairs rooms and headed up to the bedrooms. She didn't bother with the children's room and went straight for the woman's jewelry box. She dumped the box and then tossed the fakes back into it. The pearls and a few rings were real at least. She sighed and checked under the bed and then his dresser. "Some sweep."

She headed back downstairs and realized she had missed a door. She grinned when she turned the knob and it was locked. "Finally." She hunkered down and set her lockpicks in motion; it was a simple lock. She could have just forced the door, but the best way to steal anything was to make sure they never missed it. Books lined the walls, stuffy books on the history of the Chantry. She curled her nose and focused on the desk, five drawers and no locks. She sorted through some boring papers, letters he was writing to his lady at the Pearl, and finally the bottom left drawer gave her something. A whole sack of sovereigns, she jingled it in her hand. She'd have to give Dawn her cut but it was still better than nothing. She let herself out the back door and climbed the garden wall. She settled her bag against her spine and stuffed her hands in her pockets, whistling a cheery tune as she strutted past the guard. It was definitely better than nothing.


	15. Strangers in the Snow

Satinalia and snow came faster than she had planned. Snow was bad for thieving and she was glaring out the window at it like her will alone would make it atone for its sin. Dawn had given her a place to sleep in the Pearl, a quiet corner and a locking trunk but she was in another tavern. Even in the dark underbelly of the Pearl, everyone had someone to go back to, someone happy to see them. She hadn’t even toyed with going back to Lothering and her only letters were to David. She read them over and over before locking them away, knowing he was careful with news from home but that he would take care of the twins. She stared down at the wine in front of her, wondering if she had aged the past few months and that's why they didn't judge by her height or if it was because they knew she was the one that emptied their kitchen of fine silver. Twice. Or maybe it was because she had roared in like silent storm, she sighed and took another cautious sip.

"Hello, pretty one." She stared up at the boy, he was bordering on manhood. A drunk one, but the boyish flop of golden curls across his brow made her smile. He sat across from her. "Alone for Satinalia too?"

She nodded. "I'm not from here."

"Me either." He grinned. "Want some company? After the hot rum too, maybe?"

She laughed at his bravado, she took special care that everything about her screamed danger and here this fool was offering her company. But she wanted company, damn them all, tonight she didn’t want to be alone. She purred. "What kind, sugar?"

He blinked and his smile took a wicked gleam. "The kind where we get naked for an hour or three."

She finished her wine and stood, hoping the flush against her cheeks wouldn't be noticed as she called over her shoulder. "Bring the rum, I have a room."

Hawke listened to him snore beside her. He had been good, it had all felt good. Just fucking, nothing more and certainly no expectations or rules, no pain. She smiled and rolled off the bed to slowly dress. She stared down at him a little tenderly as she brushed the hair back from his face and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Thank you, sugar." She slipped out of the room into silence of morning.


	16. Hay Between Hearts

With the spring, Hawke returned to Lothering. Red enjoyed the gentle riding and fresh grass almost as much as she enjoyed the open air and sky. They made it to Lothering after dark, the moon high as she unsaddled Red and let him settle into his stall. She opened the front door, making enough noise to alert her family there was someone there. And then a skillet came flying at her head. She hit the floor, barely dodging it. "Sweet fucking Andraste."

"Hawke?" Every candle and lantern blazed to life as her sister stalked towards her. "Rose Celene Hawke."

She smiled meekly up at her, eyeing the twined fire and ice wreathing Beth's hands. "The one and only."

"Where have you been?!" Bethany sank down on her knees beside her and began sobbing. Hawke wrapped her arms around her, suddenly feeling like she was made of too many elbows. "I didn't think you were coming back."

Hawke shook her head. "I went to Denerim, for the season." She pulled back from her long to see her face and then clung to her again. "Maker, I'm sorry. I will always come back."

"You performed for the court?" Leandra's voice was sharp from the other side of the room. 

"No." Hawke stood and pulled Bethany up. "I tried but they wanted Papa or no one." The lie fell off her tongue so easily. Leandra nodded and went back to her room. 

Bethany stared at her. "So what did you do?"

She sighed and slung her pack from her shoulders, the gold jingling inside. "I made do."

Leandra started chewing on her at the breakfast table. No thank you for the hard work or the sovereigns, not even a good morning. "You need to find something to occupy you. I won't have you lazing about here all day. Your brother is working with the guard."

Bethany snorted. "And the Templars."

Hawke set down her fork. "Why?" She got shrugs. Her mother continued on until Hawke sighed and drained her coffee. "I will stay out of your hair, don't worry." She tossed on her belt and strode out the door. 

She hadn't made to the Chanter's board or the Isherwood's when Mira spotted her. "Rose!" The ear splitting shriek made her wince but then Mira wrapped her in a tight hug. "I missed you so much, I thought about you all the time."

Hawke patted her shoulder, telling her that the thought of Mira had driven her from lover to lover since Satinalia was best saved for later. "It's good to be home."

Those golden lashes fluttered at her and she felt it again, the tug in her chest that had never happened in Denerim. Mira's grin turned wicked. "How about you show me how glad you are to be home?"

She arched an eyebrow, well two could play that game, a use for a use. She leaned forward brushing her lips along Mira's ear before she whispered. "Do you still wear nothing under that dress?"

Hawke didn't make to any job that day but she sat content enough in the inn. The coin she'd made over the winter would last a time. Mira had been careful this time, no teeth had broken her skin and the scratch of her nails had been pleasant instead of brutal. She almost felt bad for her own behavior. When they were both sated in that dusty old barn, Hawke had walked away. She had settled into her clothes like a second skin and left Mira to fend for herself. She swirled her drink before scowling at it. "It's just sex. A use for a use."

"A use for trouble?" She grinned as David joined her. "I heard your mother bitching all the way to my house this morning about how you rudely awakened her."

Hawke snorted. "She went right back to sleep just fine."

"You should have come bothered me." He winked and Hawke settled back into herself, David was easy. Until that easy smile turned into a hard glare. "And I've already heard an earful from Mira about you."

She groaned. "So much for she needs to keep it a secret."

"It? Did you not learn a damn thing last fall?" He ran a hand through his hair and dropped his voice. "She's using you."

"I know." She snarled before deflating. "I don't know why. It's not like I have anything to offer."

He scoffed. "I know why and I'm not repeating it to you." He leaned against the table, chin resting against a fist. "I don't want to fight with you."

She laced her fingers through his other hand. "Then don't." She gave him a game grin. "Find me a job."

He sighed, staring at their hands. "Guard is full, but I heard that the trader is looking for a mercenary to accompany him to Redcliffe." She blew hard through her nose. "Mercenary work isn't bad, Hawke."

"I know." She scowled at him. "I just hoping for something close to home for a bit. Bethany is upset."

He nodded. "She cried a lot this winter. I think it's why Carver joined the guard and keeps trying to join the Templars. They think you abandoned them." 

"Maker." She settled her head against her hands. "I just needed to get away, and I can't make that kind of money here." She gave a dejected sigh. "I'll talk to them."

It wasn’t a long talk. It lasted through dinner. Hawke had her boots resting against the window sill in her nest, watching the moon rise and fidgeting with a boot knife. Bethany and Carver were fine with her traveling, their only request was regular letters. Her mother had thrown a fit, claiming everything from her age to her unwed status was a danger on the road. 

"Rose, you have to think of your virtue!" She railed and threw hands in the air. "No man wants a girl who's traveled alone and in questionable circumstances. Think of the kind of marriage you want to make."

"I don't want to marry." She took another drink as her mother molted in her shock. "And I'm as interested in women as I am men. Mira doesn't seem to mind my traveling."

Leandra's nails dug into the table. "A woman?"

Hawke shrugged. "If you really want to be all judgmental over it, there's been several women." Carver choked on his food and Beth beat on his back. Hawke's grin turned wicked. "I'm really not keen on being of interest to the men you have in mind, Mother. They are probably boring." Once her mother started breathing normally again she changed the subject. "There's a trader looking for a mercenary to accompany him to Redcliffe. It pays well. Would it bother you three if I took it?" She swallowed hard. "I know I left before in a shitty way. But there isn't many jobs here."

The twins stared at each other and shook their heads. Leandra scratched at her plate before sighing. "Go ahead and take it." They finished dinner in silence. 

The job to Redcliffe was uneventful, but he paid well and said he would hire her again the next time he made the journey. Red had enjoyed the exercise and she came back into the Lothering with everything in full bloom. She took the long way home, going around the main part of town and avoiding most people. A familiar voice tickled her ears from amid the high flowers. She turned Red in that direction and found them. Mira was quite happy beneath the wagonmaker's son until she looked up and saw Hawke. She shoved the boy off her and called after Hawke as she rode away. 

Hawke gave half the money to Leandra and then took herself out to buy some things they wanted. Mira found her at the General store. Hawke flinched away from her touch. "Hawke, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter, Mira."

She grabbed her arm again. "I thought you were going to be gone forever again. You can't blame me for wanting a little pleasure." Hawke glared at her until she let go. Her voice began to shake as tears filled her eyes. "My heart belongs to you, what's a little rolling in the hay to that?" Hawke sighed. "Do you not care for me?"

"Yes, I do." Mira clung to her again. "Alright, Mira. What's a little hay between hearts?"


	17. The Rose of Ferelden and The Gilded Iris

Late summer blazed with an ill temper that was a perfect match to Hawke's bored, arrogant stride through the streets of Lothering. Dawn sent her every job that came up in the area but it wasn't enough to keep her busy. She was grateful when she was requested back in Denerim for a special assignment. Dawn greeted her with a scowl. "Love, I need you to go Val Royeaux." Hawke arched a brow at that and Dawn waved it off. "I know, we don't cross borders but that little bitch Iris stole from me."

Hawke' eyes widened in shock. Iris had been set to inherit the business from Dawn, she had never been anything but the most perfect of thieves. "What did she take?"

"Gold." She cackled. "What else? No, it's more than that. She betrayed us and tried to start her own group, fed a list of names to the guard captain. Half of my people were arrested." Her voice softened. "Ember and Thorn didn’t make it."

Hawke sighed, sending a quiet wish to their gods. She had worked with the elven twins a few times; they had been good and were good people as well. But she could well imagine what happened when the guard beat on their door to arrest them, especially if Iris had told them that Ember was a mage. She traced the wood grain of Dawn’s work table. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t care. If you get the gold back, good. If you don’t, just make sure she understands she did wrong.” She stared at the far wall, her decision weighing on her. “Kill her for the twins, for the people I can’t get out of jail who are facing execution. She never wanted the black book but now she can’t escape it.” Hawke nodded and stood. Dawn snatched her arm and tapped the tattoo on her wrist. “No risk to yourself, Bard’s Daughter. If you can’t get her, you fly free. She’s not worth your life.”

“Understood.” A slow smile lit her face. “She should have known you would send me and no one has escaped me yet. Hawks are predators for a reason.”

Dawn chuckled darkly. “You need to use a different name, love. Spend some time terrorizing Orlais as payment.”

A string of thefts ran from Denerim to Gherlen’s Pass, leaving guards in a fit of panic every time they saw a red rose before the thefts mysteriously stopped.  Another rose was found in Lydes and a slew appeared in Val Royeaux. A tinkle of laughter was heard one evening as a boutique owner cursed at his empty till, the brilliant red rose resting across the top. He tore at his hair. “Go back to the void that birthed you, demon!”

The laugh came again from his open door. “Ferelden will take me back when I’m ready.” The hooded and masked woman disappeared into the night as he yelled for the guards. The Rose of Ferelden was plastered on every street corner by the end of the week.

Iris hadn’t been difficult to find, but she had entrenched herself with the local thieves. Hawke’s string of petty thievery was as much to give herself something to do as it was to lure her out. Finally, she got word of a mark Iris was taking and she let herself in silently. Iris was no longer a thief; the easy pickings of the empire’s capital had made her lazy. Hawke wrapped the long ponytail around her fist and yanked the woman’s head back before pressing a blade to her throat. “Tsk, tsk, love. To think you almost took over our guild.”

“Hawke.” She swallowed. “Or should I call you Rose?”

“The Rose of Ferelden, thank you.” She chuckled. “Master thieves have titles.”

“We both know you aren’t here to steal anything. Let’s make a deal.” She tested her grip and Hawke tightened it painfully. “We could be a profitable team, you and I.”

“Perhaps. You have a nasty habit of betraying partners.”

Iris laughed. “Well, can you blame me? A girl has to move up in the world and Ferelden is small fish. It was nothing personal.”

Hawke spun her around and slammed her into the wall, sinking the dagger in to the hilt in her stomach. She leaned in close as Iris gasped. “You see, love, it was personal. For Ember. For Thorn. For the ones you sent to the hangman’s noose.” She twisted it deeper. “It was very personal, which is why I didn’t just poison you and be done with it.” She whispered in her ear. “I did use a gold dagger though, since gold is all you care about.”

She ripped it free and watched Iris slump to the floor her eyes wide with horror before they faded into emptiness. Hawke cleaned her blade on the bedspread and left for Ferelden that night by ship.


	18. House Cadash

Highever was a bustling port city but Hawke wasn't looking for another score. She had heard there was a group of dwarves looking to head into the Deep Roads and she wanted in on it. They were easy enough to find, a fiery redhead swinging a warhammer while yelling at her brother was hard to miss. “Are you the Cadash expedition?”

She paused her tirade and leaned on her warhammer. “What’s it to you?”

Hawke laughed. “Dawn sent me, a Lady Cadash was looking for thieves and mercenaries for her expedition.”

She scowled. “Ugh, Nana.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Val, Valkyrie Cadash. This nug humper is my brother Orn. If Nana hired you out, then welcome aboard.”

Orn sighed, tugging on his beard. “Have you been to the Deep Roads?”

“Have you?” She cocked a hip to one side as she tossed her braid behind her.

Val laughed. “Oh, you will do fine with us.” She turned to the other hirelings. “Come on, you dainty things, let’s go!”

Val and Orn were leaned against each other panting. “Hawke?”

“I’m here.” She groaned. The cave in had barely missed her, but a couple of rocks had still rung her bell. She touched her head and felt a warm wetness against her fingers and grimaced. “You two okay?”

“Orn is hurt.” Her voice cracked as she helped her brother to the floor. “Do you have anything on you?”

Hawke fumbled with the bottles on her belt and hobbled over to hand her a healing potion. “Did anyone else?” Val shook her head in the dim light and tipped the bottle into his mouth. He swallowed most of it down and his eyes fluttered shut. Hawke looked around before swinging her pack off her shoulders. “I have some food and I think I see some wood. I’ll get a fire going and we will rest until, for a while.” Her voice stuttered. Val had quickly become her friend, the dwarven woman was spirited and driven and now she looked so broken and dull. Hawke reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“By the stone, you are short.” She wiped at her eyes.

“All the better for thieving.” Hawke gave her a grin. “And other things.”

She chuckled. “Once we are out of this, I want a demonstration.” Hawke arched an eyebrow and she shrugged. “I can’t think of a better way to celebrate living.” Hawke’s laugh echoed off the walls.

Orn never woke up.  They piled stones over his body as they silently cried. When they were finished, Val stood over him and performed the dwarven funeral rights that she could remember. “I promise when we get back to surface you will be remembered, my brother.”  

She led them for days through passage after passage. Spiders and worse lurked in the dark. The food ran out and when Hawke saw a nug in passing she sent a dagger screaming through it. “This tastes like mud.”

Val chuckled darkly. “They call them mud splashers for a reason.”

Another few days passed, the water had run out. Hawke’s eyes were dry and itchy.  She kept seeing a light spot, but dismissed it until she stuck her hand in the sunlight. She stared up the tumbled rock slide. “Do you think we can climb it?”

Val was grey, even her brilliant hair was hanging lack luster behind her. “Unless you can fly us up.” Hawke snorted as they started to climb.


	19. Many Kinds of Returns

Hawke crept in through the window, the candlelight warm and inviting. "Boo."

Mira jumped, turning and holding her hairbrush like a weapon. She breathed a sigh of relief, a hand resting on her now heavy bosom. "Rose. You should knock."

"A Hawke that knocks." Hawke chuckled, she crossed the room and pulled her into her arms. She tried to kiss her but Mira pulled away and checked the door to make sure it was locked before dousing all but one candle. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "They will never hear me, Mira. And if they do, you can just say you are dancing."

"I can't take any chances, you know that." She settled back in front of her vanity and continued brushing her hair.

Hawke pulled a necklace from her belt, a deep sapphire that matched her eyes on a dainty chain. It was small enough to pass unnoticed in Lothering but it was something. She dangled it above Mira's fiery head with a smile. "What do you think?"

"Oh. Where did you get it?"

She fastened it around her neck, she felt a smug satisfaction of having picked it well as it shimmered in the candle light. "The Deep Roads, it's why I was gone so long. I almost didn't make it back."

Mira laughed. "You and your stories."

"Right." Hawke's smile felt hollow as she shivered. "Does it earn me a kiss?"

She stood and dropped her robe, pulling her toward the narrow bed and it's rough sheets. "Oh, I think so."

Hawke half fell on top of her, anointing her face with tender kisses before Mira impatiently dug her nails into her shoulders making her hiss. She trailed down her body, sucking on taut peaks as her fingers worked against her clit and before thrusting one into her. The mewling noises that dropped from her lips soon turned angry and she pushed on Hawke's head and arm. She shoved back momentarily, crooking her finger and dragging a pleased moan from her. Hawke settled between her thighs and slid a second finger in as she rolled the swollen nub with her tongue. Mira wrapped her hands in her hair and tugged, the pain distracting but at that moment she went over the edge calling softly for the Maker. Hawke sat up, still in her travel armor, and her body a war of aches and pains.

Mira stretched like a cat, eyes fluttering shut. "Aren't you a good girl? Mind blowing out the candle as you leave?" Hawke stared at the necklace, feeling the itch in her palms. It would be easy to take back. She probably wouldn't notice. She shook her head.

"No, Mira." She pinched off the flame and closed the window behind her. She slid down the drain pipe and wandered Lothering cursing herself. She should have stayed on with Val. It was too late to just barge in at home and she remembered the last time she snuck in to her own house. Mother had been a nightmare for a week. She headed towards the inn and the only bar. She had sovereigns burning in her pocket anyway.

It was dreadfully empty as she tossed a sovereign on the counter. "Let me know when it runs out." The barkeep nodded and she settled into the darkest corner of the place to nurse the coming hangover alone. Four tankards in, and she could see the bottom of the fifth if she squinted, there was a tap on her shoulder. "Fuck off."

"That's a fine greeting, Rose Celene Hawke, after months away. What if I told your sister? Or worse, your mother?" She looked up to David's cheery grin.

She shook her head and kicked out the other chair for him. "Bastard." She waved the waitress over. "Bring another for me and some for my friend."

"Your money's up."

She gave a disgusted grunt, fished into her belt pouches, and slapped a sovereign into her outstretched hand. "I've been to every major city in the country, traveled to Orlais twice, and this is still the worst service in southern Thedas."

He chuckled, giving the waitress a smile that made the girl blush. "That's because they don't know you, Hawke."

She shrugged. "You're up awful late. Old man got you running the second shift now?" He nodded. "Eh. It's not like there's any ladies to be had."

"Only when she's in town." Hawke rolled her eyes and laughed. "I'm surprised you're not with Mira."

"Been and gone." She took a long drink and he let the silence stretch waiting for her to continue. She stared at the wood of the table, tracing the grain with a finger nail.

"Something happen?"

"No." She sighed. "Yes?" She turned to stare at him. "Is she ashamed of me or is she ashamed that I'm not a man?" She tapped her fingers against the tankard. "Because I'm tired of sneaking around like a thief to see her; if she wants any future with me, it'll come out eventually. Or is it because I'm not from here? Or do I travel too much? Is she angry? Your da has offered me a job in the guard, if she wants me to stay close to here she could just say so."

David raised his eyebrows. "Would you?"

"Maybe, if I didn't feel like a convenient way for her to orgasm and provider of shiny things. Like some secret stash of chocolate that's only good because you hide it." She leaned her chin on her mug and let out a low drawn out sigh. "No, I wouldn't. I want more then Lothering has to offer, a chance to use my talents." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned her forehead against his chin. "You know, I had been telling her I loved her before I left? She barely responded. Tonight I didn't say it and she didn't notice. It's like she didn't notice how long I was gone even."

He squeezed her tight. "You were gone a lot longer than normal. If you hadn't sent that letter I would have come looking for you with Carver."

She chuckled. "All the way to the Deep Roads?"

He sat up, grabbed both her shoulders and shook her. "Maker, you don't go to the fucking Deep Roads! What in Andraste's flaming knickers were you doing?"

Her face was solemn. "I would never get in a pair of flaming knickers, Andraste's or otherwise." His face mottled and she broke off into a fit of giggles. She patted his arm. "It was supposed to be safe, David. It wasn't but I'm fine. The clan I was working for made sure I was and paid me well even with the losses they suffered."

He stared at her until she fidgeted. "How bad?"

She sighed. "I sent that letter after a week's healing."

He pulled her to him in a bear hug, her ribs cracking. "Don't ever go to the Deep Roads again. You hear me?" He shook her again, softer this time since she was half straddling his lap. He swallowed hard and she watched his Adam's apple bob with interest before her gaze settled back on his eyes. "I don't want to tell your mother you died chasing treasure."

She shook her head. "David, it's what I do. Treasure hunters don't find it in fields."

He closed his eyes, sighing. "No. And you find most of yours in palaces and market stalls." She stiffened. "I've known a long time, trouble."

"Mira." He expected venom, the quiet exhaustion surprised him but then she frowned.

He shook his head, brown eyes meeting her sea blue ones. "No. Bethany. I went to her with my suspicions and she told me. And then threatened to kill me and burn my ashes so no one would ever find me." Hawke chuckled, relaxing comfortably in his lap. "I only asked because I was worried. It was right after your father died and I knew bards don't make much, especially apostate bards with mouthy daughters." He gingerly let his hands settle on her hips. "I had very heroic thoughts of helping your family and you falling in love with me actually."

She arched a brow and took a drink from his tankard. "That's not heroic, that's conniving." She patted his cheek. "I'm so proud."

He snorted. "You're proud of puppy love plotting, but not of me becoming a Sargent in the guard? You're a terrible person."

Her lips pursed. "You didn't tell me you got a promotion." She tried to shake him, his stalwart shoulders unmoving. He chuckled at her displeased pout. "Bastard. Of course, I'm proud of that. I've got two guards of status in my pocket now." She winked.

He swallowed another drink and trailed his fingers along her cheek. She leaned into them purring like a cat. "You're shameless."

She scowled. "I'm working on getting drunk and came here with the intent of getting fucked. You pulled me into your lap, sugar." She went to slid out of it and he wrapped an arm around her waist pinning her there. She gave him an appraising look.

"What about Mira?" His eyes searched her face.

Her expression softened and she kissed him. It was a tender thing, butterfly wings on a sunny spring morning and sugar whipped with butter. She held herself away from him as he floundered, holding him upright as his hands furled and unfurled at her waist. She pulled away with a smile. "Please tell me I am not your first."

He blushed. "Yes."

She sighed, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "Not tonight then, not with drink in our heads and pain in my heart. I won't do that to you, David. Not with Mira hanging over your conscious." She slid out of his lap and perched on the edge of the table. "I think it's time I ended it anyway."

He took her hand. "Let me walk you home?"

She stared down into his brown eyes, she always thought they looked like mud but now she could see why so many girls described them as melted chocolate. She wanted to tell them they missed the honey mixed in for good measure, he was so sweet he would rot your teeth. "Don't get all protective on me now, David. It's just sex."

"Not for me." He looked down, his expression hardening as he remembered things she wanted forgotten. "I won't use you like that."

She frowned and grabbed his chin, making him meet her gaze. "You're not using me. I enjoy sex, with feelings or without them. It's like eating for me, I enjoy it but I can go without when necessary or even suffer through some bad."

He laughed. "Fine. Prepare to suffer then. I'll be a terrible stick in the mud."

She crossed her eyes in mock thought. "The possibilities." His laughter trailed off but he was smiling still. She took his hands. "I'll walk you through your first time, as your friend. But don't ask more of me, not now. I need a break from more than bed games." She smirked. "Or hay lofts, tables, chairs, fields, or that one time I tried it in a moving carriage."

She giggled at his expression of shock and awe. "I take it you and Mira weren't monogamous."

"We were for a while. And then I found out she was fucking the wagonmaker’s son while I was gone." She shrugged. "We talked about it and decided when we were apart we could seek our pleasure elsewhere but that our hearts were bound to each other." Her face soured. "Apparently that meant different things to each of us." There was pity in his eyes and she felt her temper rising. She shook her head and plastered on a grin. "Come on, let's get you home. Guards need their rest to protect us from brigands and thieves."

He chuckled letting her pull him up and lead him out the door. "We don't have thieves; I think someone runs them all off her home turf." She turned and waved before disappearing into the night.

Hawke let herself into the stable and was greeted by a soft whinny. "Hey, Red. Anybody mess with my pack?" His still massive head bobbed. She chuckled. "Was it you?" He bobbed again. She held out an apple. "Looking for one of these?" He took it happily from her hand. She petted his neck, even after spending the past few years in lazy retirement he still had cords of muscle. She nuzzled her face against his mane. "Mind sharing your barn tonight? I'm too lonely to sleep at the inn and mother will ask questions I don't want to answer if I go in." He ruffled against her shoulder before checking her pockets. "Fine. Have the other apple, scoundrel."


	20. Red Dawn

Dawn found her standing at the front door. She always wanted to knock, she shook herself. This was home, she didn't have to knock. She opened the door and called out. "Mother? Beth? I'm home!"

She heard a pot slam in the kitchen and a thunder of feet before Bethany slammed into her. She caught the door frame keeping them on their feet. "You're home!" She hugged her back, always checking to make sure she didn't feel too thin. Beth would go without first of things got tight while she was gone. No bones poked back at her and she smelled like her favorite tea. "I wondered if you were gone for good this time."

"Hey." Hawke helped her shoulders, looking over her sister's face. "I told you would never leave like that without telling you where I was going. And things." She chewed her lip. "They got complicated this time."

Beth arched a brow at that. "Guards complicated?"

She shook her head. "No, above the board work, mostly. How's mother?"

"I'm fine." Cold as the winter sun Hawke thought. "You were supposed to be home a month ago."

Hawke dropped her heavy pack on the table, Leandra's eyes lit up with the thud. "I got on with a deep roads expedition, things didn't go well. It was in my letter."

"We got it."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Where's Carver?"

"I'll get him!" Bethany disappeared into his room and grumbles were soon replaced with heavy footsteps.

He had to duck to clear the doorway. "Void, what are you eating?"

He laughed. "Same as Beth."

"He eats twice as much, thank you." She rolled her eyes.

Hawke chuckled as they gathered around the table. She pulled a sack of sovereigns out first. "A thousand, we didn't find our thaig but we hauled enough out that we made a killing and compensation for my injuries."

Leandra's hand hovered above the sack, her voice quiet. "All of your earnings?"

"No. I kept back some but a thousand should keep the Templars off Beth's back if something happens and supply us well for winter."

"It'll repair the hole in barn roof too." Carver settled in at the table with a sandwich as thick as Hawke's hand and a mug of coffee.

She nodded. Beth handed her a coffee with enough sugar it was a little gritty and she grinned. Nothing like home. "I also grabbed some needles for you, mother, and some books for Beth." She scowled at Carver. "I wanted to get you something, giant, but I couldn't find anyone selling a mabari." He grinned, mouth full of food and she shook her head with wry amusement. "No wonder mother can't marry you off."

"I can't marry you off either, not with your business with the leathersmith's daughter." Leandra glared at her. Hawke opened her mouth to tell her to shove it but she continued. "She had a row with the baker about it. He needs an apprentice and everyone in town knows she is the best suited for the job. He won't take her because of you."

Hawke stiffened, staring at the table long enough to collect her thoughts before straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. "I guess it's a good thing I moved on to other dalliances then. I hope she gets it." Leandra blanched and Carver's mug fell from his hand, shattering into a million pieces. She took a long drink of her coffee letting them collect themselves as Beth stared a hole in her head. "Do we need anything? I could use a good walk around town today."

Leandra shook her head. "No. The money from your last job is still holding." She smiled, a rare full smile that her children prized. "Maybe a trip to Denerim is in the works this year. You would be able to find mabari there. We could use some wool to make new winter clothes." Hawke nodded. "Maybe some finer items." She shook her head. "Or not, if times get hard again there is no one to buy them here." She stared hard at each of her children in turn. "And absolutely no more tattoos."

The twins grinned sheepishly as Hawke ran her finger over the words that ran along her wrist. It was time to fly free again it seemed. "Well, I'm going to wander out. I want to see if Captain Isherwood has any work for me while I'm here and I have somethings to take care of." Leandra nodded absentmindedly. Hawke tossed back the rest of the coffee, the sugar sludge gritting against her throat and sticking to her teeth. She rinsed it out in the sink before edging out the back door. "I don't need a shadow, Beth."

She linked her arm through hers with a smile. "I know you're going to see Mira."

Hawke scoffed. "I told you it's over."

"There wasn't any screaming last night before you decided to sleep in the barn." Hawke scowled at her and she patted her elbow. "It's what younger sisters do. Besides, Carver can't watch your back on this. He wouldn't understand what was going on."

Hawke sighed and leaned her forehead against her sister's. "Fine, brat. But I do want to visit some people. If we see her, we see her."

It wasn't an accidental run in with Mira. Hawke knew the moment those sapphire blue eyes locked on to her in the middle of the village that the morning's prey had been sighted. She sighed and gently shoved Bethany away. She gave her a half smile at the concern rolling off her sister in waves. "It'll be fine."

"The bakery is right there."

"I know." She looked away as understanding filled Beth's eyes. That almost made it hurt too much. Mira stormed across the open ground toward her, red hair wreathing her in fiery halo. Hawke tried to summon a smile but she could feel the eyes of the other villagers turn to watch the drama about to unfold. "Hello, Mira."

Mira froze and blinked several times, thrown off her course. Hawke almost wanted to laugh. Mira's fists clenched. "You." She spat out.

"Me." She grinned. "Unless you were looking for David. Who's probably sleeping off a hangover after all the drinking we did last night." It was worth the offer of an alibi, an easy, pretty route.

"You tricked me, held me against my will with your poisonous charms." Hawke settled against the edge of the well, it was a convincing rage but Mira was going to have to do better. "Everything we did was unnatural and lie! It sickened me. You made me love you." She threw the necklace at her feet as Hawke chewed her lip. She regretted her initial thought, that one had hurt. "You leave to learn from the witch of the wild and she gives you pretty magic charms. It's why the Chasind trade with your family."

A bark of laughter left Hawke's lips. "Or maybe it's because I'm the only one in Lothering that speaks their language? That's bothered to try and understand their culture? If you're going to insult me, you're going to have dig a little deeper than that, Mira."

“Do not mock me.” Hawke snorted at the imperious tone. “At least my da loved me enough to stick around, are you sure he really died, Rose? Or did he run off because your mother is a frigid bitch like you? At least I can get a man between my legs when you aren’t here to scare me into your bed.”

The humor left Hawke’s face and she could feel Beth’s magic crackling against her skin. She straightened, for once wishing she was as tall as the twins. Her tone was even but she knew everyone heard her. “Leave my family out of this, Mira. And you were never in my bed. You were always happy to use me in yours, perfectly willing every time or I wouldn’t have had you.”

Triumph flickered in her eyes. “Thieving hands take what isn’t theirs all the time.” Her smile was vicious. “Isn’t that right, Rose?”

Icy dread slid down her spine. “Don’t.” She said softly. “Don’t you dare.”

She settled her hands on her hips. “It would be better in Kirkwall, wouldn’t it? You talked about going back to that pit that spit you out. You would fit right in there since you’re the.” Hawke’s fist connected with her jaw with a crack, knocking her into the dirt. Hawke stared down at her, her heart pounding with anger and fear as it broke again and again with every tear on Mira’s face. “You hit me.” She said softly.

Hawke’s voice was broken as the guards came rushing towards them. “I can’t risk them. Never. Do you understand?” They grabbed her arms, pulling her away as the tears finally broke free, unleashing the torrent within her. “You threaten them again, and I will bury you.” Mira gasped as the guards froze looking between the two women. Hawke lurched against them as her skin burned and roared. “I will bury you!” She hung limply then, sobbing as they drug her away.

David came to the cell bars a while later. “Hey, trouble.” She sniffled, leaning her head further between her knees. He leaned against the bars, wishing he could open them and hold her. “Dad put her under house arrest for provoking you, but there’s nothing he can do to get around you throwing that punch. The healer had to look at her, loosened a couple of teeth but she will be fine. She hasn’t said a word since.” Silence met him. “The fine is 350 sovereigns to get you out today.”

Her head snapped up and she snarled at him. “Don’t let them pay it.” She took a shuddering breath and he noted an odd smell in the air, like sulfur. He was going to talk to the blacksmith about burning the forge too hot. “Don’t let them pay it. I need to stay in here and cool my head, David. If I get out of here this mad, I’m going to do something I will regret.”

He nodded, the wild look in her eyes would haunt him. “It’s just three days in here. Will that be enough?”

She shook her head and licked her dry lips. “I’ll head back out. Find work in Denerim for the rest of the summer.” Her voice cracked. “Why? Why did she threaten that?”

“I don’t know, Rose. She knows what your family means to you. It was cruel.”

Her face hardened. “Don’t call me that. My name is Hawke.” She settled against the wall and closed her eyes. “People who call me Rose only bring me heartache.”


	21. Candy

Hawke wandered the open market stalls as the shopkeepers left for the evening. They left their wares out under the stars and had bragged to her that they had never had a problem with thieves. No, that didn’t happen in Amarathine. She chuckled to herself as she picked up an ornate dagger, eyeing the gold work and gemstones. “Too easy.”

She cleared every stall by midnight, dropping sack after sack to the drop point over the wall. The gate was down for the night but payment came sailing up and over on an arrow’s song. She waved to her contact and headed to the inn and its bar. She had earned herself a whiskey and a soft bed with all that hard work. A guard passed her on her way and she gave him a winsome smile and wink, her smile widening when he flushed. His shout went up as she came to the corner of the inn and booted feet ran toward the market as she entered feeling secure in a job well done.

The morning was bright as Hawke left the city. With the coin she had made, she wouldn’t need to work anymore jobs this summer unless she wanted to, even with the Templars breathing down their necks. She whistled while she strutted through the gate and when the guard called to her, she kept smiling. “Hey, you! That’s my dagger.”

“What?”

“That’s mine!” He blustered into her face. “I was having it specially made and was going to pick it up today after my shift. To the guard captain with you.”

She sighed, letting him drag her along. She could slip him but it was an easy haul. She wanted to be able to come back as she pleased to clean them out again. The guard captain looked her up and down as they came in, the guardsman still bellowing. He went back to the paper. “She’s not the Rose.”

“I don’t care! She has my dagger.”

A thought shot across her mind. “A woman gave it to me as I was walking back from the market last night. I am a traveler from Lothering and she told me she would return for it but that it was a gift for her husband.”

He shook her arm. “I ain’t married.”

The captain chuckled. “No woman could stand you that long. Just take it and leave.” Hawke turned to go and he stopped her. “Not you, young lady.” The guardsman left. “I know you are a thief. One of the urchins ratted you out for stealing bread and giving it them.”

She sighed. “No honor at all then amongst the little brats.”

He shrugged. “They are only urchins by their clothes. They are in my employ.” He smiled. “And my children. I appreciate your concern. But the King wants every petty thief who is caught sent to Ostagar to be trained up in the army. The only reason we caught you is because that idiot noticed something shiny on your belt. If we brought in the Rose, we would have the King a new spymistress.”

Hawke smiled with a soft tilt of her head. “What makes you think she would agree to that?”

“She wouldn’t want to be executed.” Hawke nodded. “After I got her to sign something for the kids though. They adore her.” He stood, his bulk dwarfing the room. “Now come on, I have to keep you in a cell until the army comes to get you. You get to keep everything you have on you and I’ll make sure word gets to your family.”

Later that night, Hawke picked the lock on her cell. She looked longingly at the door, escape would be so easy. But the money for the next two years would be good and she would have access to armories and treasuries which would get her even more. Only a fool would turn away that kind of opportunity, not with Templars hounding your sister’s every move. She smiled as she slid a paper across the desk and began sketching a rose, some hard training with her daggers wouldn’t be amiss either. They may even teach her some new tricks. She signed it with a flourish, carefully arranging everything on the desk and headed back to her cell and settled in for the night.

She was woken in the morning when her cell door rattled. “The Rose was here! Did you see her?”

The young boy was screeching with excitement and Hawke grinned. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

He shook her bars again. “I’m glad I’m not a lady. Mom’s bringing you breakfast. Bye! Moooom! The Rose was here! She left us a picture!” She rolled over on her cot and laughed into her pillow.


	22. To Annoy A Brother

Hawke rolled her eyes. They had cuffed her with her hands in front, she could slip her thumbs in and out with ease too. So much for the military keeping her out of trouble. She grinned at the still seething Sargent, his eye swelling beautifully, and he shoved her through the door into the building dubbed the Pen. She had been here a week and this was her second official trip, her fifth trip all together. They locked all the contraband on the second floor, the unlocked window not out of reach of the small Chantry's roof. The local fence knew her on sight already.

A young man was seated at a ramshackle desk, scratching away carefully at the paper in front of him. She flopped into the other seat, kicking her feet up on the desk and smiling when he jumped. "Must be a very pretty girl that letter is for."

He flushed to his ears but hid it away in the drawer. "Can I help you?" she held up her hands and shook the cuffs. He groaned. "Where's the officer who arrested you?"

"That would be Sargent Dickface No Fun. He said I can spend the day in here without food."

She gave him some credit when he didn't blink at the name calling. "What did you do?"

"He yelled at me and I yelled back." She shrugged. "When he ordered me to run off my attitude, I told him he could kiss my ass."

"So he swung on you and you swung back." She nodded. "And since you don't have a black eye, he must have missed. He didn't come in, so you didn't." She smiled slowly, reclining in the chair like a well-fed cat after it caught a mouse. He drummed his fingers on the table. "Asshole deserves it but you have to stay put for the day so he doesn't see you."

She chuckled. "I assure you, he won't see me unless I let him."

A voice echoed from down the hall. "Sargent Dickface bring in another one he's beaten up?"

She blinked twice before dropping the cuffs on desk and leaping at the man entering the room.  "Carver!" She wrapped him in a tight hug, pinning his arms to his sides.

"You?" He spluttered and twisted so she released him and stepped back. He grabbed her shoulders, towering over her and giving her a good shake. "He dragged you in?"

She pouted. "Oh, that's a nice thing to say to your sister. I haven't seen you in a year and you make me sound like garbage being drug in, brat."

He gave her another shake before dragging her back to the desk and pushing her into the chair. He leaned against the desk. "Why are you here? Mother finally get to you?"

She looked at the floor a moment before meeting his eyes with a tilt of her head. "How much do you know about the market place in Amarathine?"

His eyes and mouth fell open. "That was you?" She nodded, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes as he rubbed a hand over his face. "Maker, Rose. They haven't even found all of it."

She chuckled. "I don't imagine they will."

He hung his head, a laugh escaping him. "You're terrible. And this is your penance?"

"Yeah. Two years." The other man was examining in the unopened cuffs. "I just slid them off. No magic." He looked at her a long moment and then dropped the cuffs into another drawer. "They should have specified my behavior in their terms but that's on them. I wasn't aware the army needed people to pick locks."

"They want you as a spy?" He stared at her, the same hard stare their father had used every time she had tried lying to him. Lucky little Carver was just her brother; it didn't make her feel wiggly.

She stared right back. "If they do, I'll run like I stole a mabari and won't look back. I'm not an idiot and Ferelden isn't established enough to take that kind of risk with anyone who isn't loyal to the point of insanity. I could make it to Orlais before they would realize I was gone to Redcliffe."

He laughed. "You are the worst Ferelden in existence."

She grinned. "That's because I was made in Kirkwall. I'm not from here."

The other man cleared his throat and they both grinned sheepishly at him. "Take the day off, Carver. I think you're the only one that can keep your sister out of trouble anyway."

They sat out behind the stables, bottles of ale between them. Carver watched her tip the bottle back, shaking his head as he took a sip. "How's Beth? Letters aren't much."

Hawke nodded. "She's good. Everyone is always disappointed she isn't a healer." She sighed, fiddling with her now empty bottle before tossing it against the back of the stable. "She stays inside all the time, never goes out. She's terrified she will be caught and dragged off to the Circle."

"All that gold I send every month should keep the Templars away."

She arched a brow, pulling a cork from another bottle. "It keeps them away from the house. They decided to increase the bribe for the market place and the Chantry." He swore and took a long drink. "What am I supposed to do, Carver? Complain about their unfairly high bribes?"

He sighed, head hanging. "At least tell me you rob them."

"Every chance I get." She chuckled, she took another long drink, her face distorting. "Robbery is this horse piss you call a drink. You didn't buy it, right?"

"Standard issue." He clinked his bottle against hers. "A whole week’s worth." He tipped his back and then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "After a while your tongue goes numb and you don't taste it." She laughed. "I missed you, you know. Life is boring around here. Where are you staying?"

She pointed to the far barrack. "Women's 3, I've been here a week and I've yet to be bored. Orgies every night." She gave him a wink. "Don't you have those in the men's?"

"No." He froze with the drink halfway to his lips. "I can't even get a date."

"Poor baby brother. It's those sweet cheeks of yours. Grow a beard and the ladies will fawn all over you, men too if you want them." She choked on her drink, spewing ale everywhere. At his questioning look, she gasped out. "I'm glad they don't have shared barracks. That could have been awkward."

He snorted in disgust. "I never want to see your naked ass."

"I've been told I have very fine naked ass." Carver covered his ears and started singing loudly, laughing when she punched him in the shoulder. "I met a strawberry blonde last night I could introduce you to. She's an archer, I think. I don't know, I stopped paying attention and she talked a lot. Tiny tits though, like peaches. It kind of stuck and she thinks it's a sweet nickname."

He rolled his eyes. "I am not dating your seconds."

She patted his arm. "I didn't sleep with her yet. I'm being kind enough to offer you a chance before I ruin your chances."

He shook his head, snapping his fingers. "David, weren't you two a thing?"

"I slept with David once. It wasn't fun." She snorted. Her gaze softened and she dropped the bottle, picking up some long blades of grass and braiding them together. "You know how things went bad with Mira."

Carver scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Still bad?"

"Bad enough I have to sneak in and out of Lothering in the dead of night." She sniffed. "She's apprenticed to the baker now, just like she always wanted."

"What happened?"

She shrugged. "I went back right after you joined up.” He nodded. “We fought again, and I just let her yell. I just stood there and took it like I did everything else with her.” She wiped tears away from her face. "She told me your hands are as dirty as your soul."

"She was going to rat you out for your hobby and she had the balls to say that."

She snorted. "Yeah. It broke my heart all over again. I told her she could say all she wanted about me but if she threatened my family again, I'd do more then hit her." She took a long drink. They sat in silence a while. "She apologized when I came back that fall, loaded down with enough supplies to make for a comfortable winter and enough coin to make me the most eligible woman in Lothering. She had spent the summer sleeping in the ashes of the baker's hearth, an innocent woman in his eyes and worthy apprentice."

"What did you do then?" He watched her face.

She sucked in her lower lip and grinned. "Went home with someone new every weekend at the bar. Man, woman, human, elf, dwarf. It was fun." She turned to him and took another drink, still smiling. "Baker found another apprentice too, and he inherited the shop when the old bastard died, right before I left for Amaranthine."

Carver chuckled. "The best revenge is to live well and fly free."

She nodded. "Is it true? What they say about Darkspawn and the Wardens?" Carver shrugged. "Well aren't you a fountain of knowledge. I've fought Darkspawn. I guessed that's why they didn't slam me in prison."

He stared at her. "You fought Darkspawn again."

She shook her finger accusingly. "I do some above board jobs, you know. House Cadash hired me back again and we tried another entrance. We came right back out. Darkspawn, everywhere." She leaned back pulling up her shirt. A long jagged scar lay across her hip. "I was lucky it wasn't poisoned according to Val."

"Val?"

"Valkyrie Cadash." She grinned. "Youngest of the Cadash Clan and the most terrifying. She's running the family's branch of the Carta now. Her older brother runs their Guild. He likes being all diplomatic and she likes breaking kneecaps." She looked at him sideways, still grinning. "You'd like her; she has a huge warhammer. She’s very good at exploding nugs with it."

"And then you slept with her because you're a whore."

Hawke laughed. "So jealous. You try and resist a reaver with tits that nice. Blood lust is good for more than just killing. And we have a regular thing when I’m on the Storm Coast, thank you."


	23. To Catch a Thief

They didn't get much time out of the fort. But when they did most soldiers went straight for the nearest place with music and booze to unwind. "Your sister is here." Carver groaned. The throb of the music wasn't enough to drown out of the laughter of his buddies. "She's wrapped around the captain. Now that's a show I want to see."

He slammed his glass on the table hard enough the glass cracked in half. "She's our superior and the other is my sister. Shut your fucking mouths." They stared at the glass in silence long after he stormed off.

They hadn't been lying. Hawke had his captain pinned to the wall, a hand tangled in the woman's blonde hair, her smile wide between open mouthed kisses along the other woman's neck and collarbone. A fist formed pulling back the captain's head, dragging a deep moan from her as she arched hard enough to clink the ice against the glass in Hawke's other hand. He coughed loudly, easy enough to do in the elfroot haze, especially when fighting a chuckle at his sister on her tiptoes in those ridiculous boots. "Hawke."

All the Hawke children had inherited their mother's blue eyes but only Hawke's darkened to midnight depths. Their adoptive grandmother had called them sea eyes. That darkness turned on him now, hazy with desire that quickly shuttered behind her lashes when she realized who called her name. "Carver." The captain didn't notice him, nuzzling her lips against Hawke's neck and her hands wandering. Even if it wasn't his sister she was pawing all over, Hawke's detachment from it was wrong.

His lip curled in disgust. "Better place for that, sister mine. We need to respect our captain in the morning."

She took a step back from the woman, catching her gently and giving her a charming smile. She brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "Give me a moment, darling?" The captain nodded. Hawke grabbed Carver's arm in bruising grip and drug him around the corner before slamming him into the wall. He found himself grateful that he could look over her angry head. "Respect her in the morning, Carver Anthony Hawke? You damn well better, or I will beat your ass in the middle of the training yard so hard all your buddies won't be able to sit for the next month."

He glared down at her. "Will you respect her in the morning? Do you even know her name? Or care?"

She snarled. "I know all their names, you fucking ass. Every man and every woman. I do pay attention. I even make sure they have an orgasm. Multiple if I can manage it. If they need something, I make sure it comes their way within a week or two."

"So you pay people to fuck you. That's low, Hawke. I knew you were an unloveable bitch sometimes but I didn't think it had gotten that bad."

Hawke was silent as she stared up at him for several heartbeats. She stepped away from him, her face empty. "Void take you, Carver." She turned and walked away.

He went back to his table, silent and brooding. He should have followed her, apologized. He could do it tomorrow. A serving girl tapped his shoulder. "A message from your sister. She said thanks for the coin, they'll enjoy a night alone at one of the inns. That's sweet of you!" She gave him a radiant smile. He checked his pockets, there wasn't even a spare cooper left. He was never going to apologize.

The captain was shy now as Hawke opened the door to the room she rented. She tossed a smile over her shoulder. "If you changed your mind, I'll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed, Anna."

She shook her head slowly, licking her lips. "I've never done this with a woman."

Hawke's eyebrows raised. "Fooled me." She held out her hand and pulled the other woman to her. One hand smoothed over her ass bring their hips flush together as she cradled her cheek. "If you want me to stop, just say so, sweets." She nodded and Hawke smiled, pulling her head down to her and kissing her deeply. She could still taste the whiskey on her lips, an intoxicating blend. She let her fingers trace down her neck, feeling their pulses quicken. Clothes were gone in a flurry, tossed precariously close to the fire as Hawke laughing grabbed the shirt and threw it on the couch.

A flush had formed on Anna's cheeks, deepening as Hawke pushed her back on the bed and kissed down her body. "Let me take care of you, darling."

Her breathing hitched as Hawke's lips trailed along her abdomen and then across her hipbone. She rolled a delicate coral nipple between her thumb and finger, humming at her gasp. "What about you?"

Hawke froze above her parted thighs, midnight eyes full of amusement and pleasure. "Aren't you impatient?" She slid both her hands between her thighs, pulling another sound from Anna's lips as she spread her further open. "We have all night, darling, and as many nights as you desire after." She gave a long lick to the folds before her, watching her arch. She chuckled. "And days too. I want to watch you come undone in the Chantry choir loft at least once, Anna." A strangled laugh left her as Hawke latched on to her clit and sucked. She tangled her hands in her dark curls, her moans quickly becoming more erratic. A soft squeal left her when she slowly slid a finger into her.

"I want." She grasped at the sheets, writhing.

Hawke leaned up, chin glistening and smiling as her thumb took up the pace her tongue had set and slid in a second finger. "You want what, sweets?"

Anna exploded, curling around herself before flinging her body outward with a wild howl. The room next to theirs beat on the wall, Hawke ignored it as she slowly eased her fingers free from the twitching woman and snuggled in beside her. Her erratic breathing finally slowed and she lurched up on to her elbow to stare down at Hawke, who's smile was pleased. She leaned down and kissed her, tasting herself on her lips and pinching a taut nipple and wondering at the fullness of it when she cupped her breast in her hand. She broke the kiss with a shaky laugh as Hawke arched against her. "You've ruined men for me."

Hawke chewed her lip, eyes flashing. "Well, that's not so bad is it?"

She shook her head and straddled Hawke's body. "And I have private quarters back at the fort."


	24. A Song for Flight

Anyone who talked shit the next couple weeks over the captain taking up with one of the thieving scouts found themselves eating dirt in the training ring with Hawke grinning over their prone forms. Talk turned to muttered grumbles and then finally stopped all together. Anna pulled Hawke aside one warm afternoon as she headed back to the barracks with her gear from a scouting run. A searing kiss cut off her greeting and she laughing pushed her away. "Hawke." The teasing admonishment was lost on Hawke's cheeky grin as she arched gracefully against the stone wall. Anna leaned down and kissed her again. "You are a bad influence."

She laughed. "Well, I am a thief."

Anna sighed. "I wanted to warn you. Some things went missing in the male barracks before you left, and they are blaming you."

"The higher ups?" A thoughtful look descended on her face as she twisted an errant curl. "I'm not good for it. Everything in there is standard issue or very personal.” She gave her a grin. “Or not worth much."

She tried to cover her laugh with a cough as she leaned her forehead on the stone over Hawke's shoulder. "Is there anything you haven't assessed in the fort?"

She smirked, fingers skimming up her side and dipping between the laces before she gently kissed her neck. "The only ass I'm interested in is yours."

"Creators, you're awful." Hawke grinned wide as she shook her head. "Shameless too. Anyway, it's just some of the regular rank and file. Watch yourself, please?"

She settled her hands on Anna's hips, her smile softening as her hair fell over her shoulder with an amused tilt off her head. "I think I can handle a few upset men, sweets. It's nothing new."

She leaned in to her, pressing their bodies close and watching Hawke's eyes darken. "Then do it for me. I'm sure I can think of a suitable bribe."

"That's not fair, Anna." Hawke's breath caught in her throat as she fell weightless into her green eyes. She laughed, a little breathlessly and high. "Forest green." A blonde brow quipped in confusion. "Your eyes, I grew up in and out of forests those colors, pretending I was hawk flying in them. You feel like flying." Anna blinked several times as Hawke swallowed hard against more words. "I'll be careful for you."

 

Hawke wiped the blood from her face as she stumbled to her feet. "I didn't take your shit."

He cracked his knuckles. "They shouldn't have let you thieves into the army. Even if it wasn't you, it was one of your friends and we'll beat you until you talk."

She spit at him and grinned. "Sorry, bastard, there is honor amongst thieves even if I knew who did it." She ducked his swing, ignoring his friends’ jeers. "Maybe you should ask your buddies."

A kick landed in her back, she caught herself before she went sprawling but his fist connected with her head. Her ears rang as she hit the dirt. She saw his boot come towards her, felt ribs crack. A bellow sounded in the night. "Enough!"

Someone stood above her, someone tall with a sword. She pushed herself into a seated position as the man sneered. "You got a boyfriend too, thieving whore?"

Sword snarled again. "That's my sister, you bastards." Hawke began to laugh as he dropped her a potion.

She was unsteady on her feet as it coursed through her. It wouldn't heal the ribs but her breathing steadied. "Carver." He nodded. There were several muttered oaths from the group. "Should we make these worthless bastards cry?" He chuckled as she pulled her daggers. She let loose a battle cry and they charged together sending the group scattering like the wind. She bashed on the locked door of the barrack. "That's right, you nutless wonders. You better hide from us."

He sheathed his sword and leaned against the wall beside her. "Why were you getting your ass beat?"

"I had him." She rolled her eyes at his pointed look. "They think I robbed them."

He snorted. "That thief is in the pen. Apparently, they can't read the posting for that; they can pick up their belongings when they want." He grabbed her chin and examined the cut on her forehead. "Anna is going to chew your ass."

"Yeah, yeah. I tried to be careful. I was headed back from watch and they got me." She scowled.

Carver couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice. "They got the drop on you?"

She flushed, kicking at the ground. "I was distracted." She kicked a stone. "It's her fault."

He crossed his arms. "This I have to hear."

She glared at him before sighing in defeat. "I was composing a poem for Anna. Eyes like the forest and hair like starlight." Her smile softened.

Carver rolled his eyes. "Lips like raw meat." She snorted. "You're in deep, Hawke."

Her smile came back. "The army isn't so bad after all. How’s Peaches?”

He shrugged. “She has a higher opinion of it then I do.” Hawke’s laughter followed him as he strolled away.

Hawke slipped into their room, moonlight shining across the floor and bed. A bare, scarred shoulder was visible, the rest was obscured by blankets and tangled blonde hair. She stripped out of her armor, wincing at the pain in her ribs and knowing the bruises would already be blooming against her flesh. She didn't bother turning on the light in the bathroom, or looking in the mirror, as she washed the blood from her skin. The warm water pounded against her, filling her limbs with lethargy. She smiled to herself as she toweled off. Carver was right. She was in deep, this made Mira look like child's play and they'd only been together a few months. She could well imagine the look on her mother's face if she brought home Anna, yet another woman and even worse this one a half elf. She shook her head, her smile widening. Mother be damned, she was deeper than Orzammar and higher than the Frostbacks.

She slid naked into bed beside Anna, dropping a soft kiss on to the scarred shoulder. A bear hunt gone wrong not long before she was made captain. It was dark against her pale skin and trailed down her back and chest. The first time they had been naked together, and sober, Anna had been self-conscious of the old wound. Hawke traced it with her tongue while she told the story. A sleepy murmur interrupted her thoughts. "Long watch?"

"Do you ever not know what time it is?" Hawke chuckled.

Anna's eyes snapped open the rest of the way. "What happened to you?" She sat up, cradling her face in her hands. "Creators, I told you to be careful."

She sighed, nipping playful at her fingers. "In my defense, they jumped me at the end of my watch when I was walking back here. Carver saved my ass."

"They got a jump on you?" Her eyes narrowed.

Hawke made a rude noise. "You are the second person to ask me that. I'm not untouchable, you know." She chewed her lip, color rising in her cheeks. "I was distracted. Thinking about you."

Her eyebrows arched delicately. "Oh really? Just what were you thinking?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." She rolled over burying her head under a pillow. "Everything."

Anna chuckled and straddled her thighs. She ran her hands up Hawke's back, making her skin pebble and tighten before she began working in broad, heavy strokes down it. Hawke immediately melted into the mattress with a heavy, happy sigh. Some time passed and when she was sufficiently relaxed Anna snuggled in beside her. Hawke fixed her blue eyes to her green ones, a soft smile on her lips. "I was trying write a poem in my head about you. I'm better at songs though."

Anna smiled. "A poem? No one’s ever wrote anything about me."

Hawke laughed, rich and deep before kissing her softly and pulling her into her arms. "Their loss. Hair like starlight, eyes like a springtime forest, that cute little nose that you wiggle when you are frustrated and think no one is looking." Anna blushed. "I can't make it in to a good song though. I start rambling about your virtues." She kissed her again, fluttering kisses across her lashes and nose. A deeper kiss that tangled their tongues and stole their breaths. Gentle kisses that tugged on lips until it drew a tantalizing moan from Anna. "You'll have to settle for me making you sing tonight."


	25. To Distract a Captain

Hawke was in the training yard when she felt a tingling along her spine. She looked around, it was deserted. Most of the soldiers wanted nothing to do with the scouts, and they especially avoided her. She let her gaze rove higher to the keep windows, a blonde figure was leaning in an open sill. She looked forlorn from here. Hawke grinned, that was an easy thing to fix. She stripped out of her leathers and then pulled off her shirt, flexing in the warm sun in just the bra they made them all wear under their arm. It was ugly but practical with no wires to stab them in the field and as she found out on one very long patrol it could be worn for four days straight before you wanted to cut yourself out of it. She gave it points for being black. She went back to murdering the dummy, grinning when she heard the window slam shut.

A few moments later Anna stormed across the practice field. She pretended to ignore her. "Rose Celene Hawke."

She turned and gave a curt bow. "Captain."

Her eyes narrowed as she stepped close enough Hawke could smell the flower-scented soap and her beneath it. "Don't you captain me."

"Anna." Her purr turned to a chuckle when she flushed to her ears. "I thought you were doing paperwork. I wasn't to distract you."

The high pitched indignant whine was not stifled by her closed lips. "And standing around half naked isn't distracting?"

Hawke licked her lips, savoring how she followed the motion. "Well, it's only distracting if you are watching me." Green eyes flicked to hers and felt heat pool within her. She arched an eyebrow. "I could use a break, care to join me?"

Anna nodded and Hawke grabbed her gear dangling it over her shoulder. She sauntered forward only to feel arms wrap around her lifting her up. Then she was in the trough, the icy water making her gasp and splutter. Anna leaned over smugly. "Seems only fair since-." Her words turned into a screech as Hawke yanked her into the water with her.

A guard wandered into the training yard to look into the commotion to find the dark haired half naked scout straddling the blonde warrior in the water. He backed out quietly amid the soft appreciative murmurs and blocked off the area for maintenance.


	26. To Steal a Thief's Heart

Anna was packing a bag as Hawke perched in the window, swinging her feet in a sheer nightdress. "How long are you on leave?"

"Two weeks, her clan is just passing through. And it's just Lothering." Anna looked up, a smile shimmering on her face. "You could come you know. It would do you some good after that letter from your mother and you could see your sister."

Hawke held out her hands like they were cuffed. "I can't leave without an escort, remember?" She smiled at Anna's laugh. "Besides, you don't want my issues ruining time with your mom. I'll get some extra scouting duty and run it out of my system."

Anna sighed, crumpling a shirt in her hands before sidling over to her. She traced her fingers up her arms, smiling at Hawke's pleased hum as her skin pebbled. She bumped their noses together. "My mother would love you, you know."

Hawke scoffed. "Really, Anna? I'm a thief. A good thief, but still." She arched her brows, her smile soft as she shook her head. "I steal everything for a living. That's not what anyone wants for their daughter."

Anna kissed her lightly before tracing a finger down her cheek. The moonlight made her skin glow beneath her few freckles. Her life in the shadows kept them from getting out of hand, but Anna found them adorable. "Is that all you see yourself as, a thief?"

She captured her finger with her lips, a gentle nip before answering. "I am The Rose, sweets. I gave the chances of something better to my brother and sister."

A bright chuckle left Anna. "A thief who hasn't stolen anything in months." Hawke shifted. "Oh, I noticed, darling. You've taken extra work to make up for the lost income. But the only thing you've taken is food for those kids that belong to the washer woman. And that's not stealing." She tucked a dark curl behind her ear. "You are so much more than a thief, one day she will see it too. You're charming and thoughtful. Your voice brightens dreary days when we've lost people. Your translations are unparalleled. The Chasind will only speak to you. Give yourself some credit."

Hawke chewed her lip. "You're going to make me cry."

"It would do you some good." Hawke tangled a hand in her hair, dragging her lips to hers. Anna moved closer to her, jostling her in the window sill and knocking her off balance. Hawke caught them both with one hand wrapped around the frame, the other tight around her waist and her legs hooked tightly around the ledge as she half dangled from the window. They stared at each other for a heartbeat before Hawke began to laugh. Anna drug her into the room and pulled the window shut. "Stay away from the window while I'm gone."

Hawke smiled against her lips. "Aye, captain."

 

Carver found her several days after Anna left, moodily tossing daggers at a dummy. "You are making everyone edgy."

She scowled at him. "They should have given me the extra work." She tossed two daggers, they hit the dummy with enough force they wobbled in the mockery of its eyeballs. "I'm bored. That letter from our darling mother left me with energy to spare."

"And you miss Anna." He jostled her shoulder and she gave him a one-sided smile. "How bad was the letter?"

She sighed. "The usual. Why can't you be involved with a nice boy? I heard she's part elf, even if she is a captain. Scouting isn't very hard and your brother said you are still drinking and singing." She rolled her shoulders and tossed another dagger. "Nothing on my promotion, or the decrease of my sentence, or the fact that Anna is a wonderful person. Just endless bitching." She threw herself on the ground and laid her head on her knees. "It's keeping me up at night. I'm happy and doing well and everything is legal for once and she just. I don't get it, Carver. I can't make her happy. I could marry the next King or become Divine and she would find a problem with it. And they won't give me anything to do."

He sat beside her. "We all know if you did either of those things it would be so you could steal their crowns." She laughed. "Just ignore her, Hawke. I know it's hard, and that she's always been awful to you but I'll read her letters for you from now on. I'll send the money and the news. You escape until you are ready to go home."

Hawke wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders. "You're not so bad for a potato."

He chuckled. "Speaking of escape, Anna is only a few hours away. Go. I'll cover for you."

She gave him a sideways look. "What do you want?"

"To stop hearing how scary hot my sister is."

She chuckled before growing silent for a time. "We have deal then." She got up, a wide smile blooming with the roses on her cheeks. "Anything I can get you while I'm in Lothering?"

"A real drink."

"Done. I may find you a girl to go with it." Her laughter echoed back to him drowning out his protests.

 

It was dark and rainy when she knocked on the window to Anna's room. It had been easy to borrow a horse from the fort stables; easier to ride through the forest, her heart tugging like a compass. Lothering had one inn and the bartender was easy in giving information about a pretty blonde staying in the end room on the second floor. A bar fight had broken out and she had slipped back out into the rain and climbed the roof. Rain was better than bruises. She knocked again before pushing open the window. She stepped into the room cautiously. "Anna?"

A sigh of tension sounded to her left and there she was, her sword aimed for Hawke's chest. Her blonde hair was undone and falling about her, green eyes mirroring the scant light in the room. Hawke grinned at the warmness in her chest that flowed down to her toes, banishing the rain's chill and tugged back her hood. "Well, that kills the romance I was going for, sweets."

Anna let out a breath of relief, letting her arm go slack and dropping the sword on the side table. "Hawke." Lips tumbled against each other as Hawke dropped her belt on to the side table by the sword. "You look like a thief."

She chuckled against her lips. "I am a thief. A nice one." She sighed as Anna tugged the wet clothes off of her. "Maker, I missed you."

"Not as much as I missed you." Anna ran her hands up her ribs, cupping her breasts. "I'm so glad you are here. I have so much to tell you."

Hawke laughed tugging the nightgown off of her and sliding her own leggings off, tripping over the boots she was still wearing. "I'm not convinced you want to talk."

"Thief." She tugged on her hair, drawing a moan from the full lips she ached to have on her flesh. "Put that honeyed tongue to use while I talk then."

Hawke smirked. “I like when you call me a thief.” She pushed her back on the bed. “Steal your time, your virtue.” She dropped a kiss on her soft stomach. “Your heart.” She chuckled. “I would say other things, but I don’t want to be thrown out into the hall naked.”

Anna’s eyes warmed. “You are meeting my mother.”

She wilted. “Mood killer.”

She chuckled, pulling her up beside her to tangle their bodies together. “Maybe. But she will be here in the morning for an hour. And I will tie you to this bed.”

“Would you like me to call you mistress?” Hawke wiggled her eyebrows.

 

Mareren was a commanding presence in the great room of the inn that morning. Hawke fidgeted in her now dry clothes and odd bits of armor, wishing she had thought to bring actual clothes. She tugged Anna back into the stairwell. “She’s not the Keeper or the First or something, right? If I screw this up?”

Anna smiled, tucking a curl behind Hawke’s ear. “She’s a hunter. You’ll do fine, Hawke. You are fine.”

She clutched her hand tightly and nodded chewing her lip. They crossed the room and Anna hugged her mother warmly. “Mamae, this is Rose Hawke.”

Hawke bowed her head. “Andaran atish’an, hahren.”

Mareren considered her a moment. “Did you once get lost along a forest road between Amaranthine and Lothering and tell a group of Dalish hunters you pretended to be a leaf?

She blanched as Anna stared at her. “Yes.”

The older woman chuckled. “We talked about you for a long time, da’len. I see you still have your manners.” She turned to her daughter. “I would like a moment with this daughter of Malcolm.” Anna nodded and wandered outside. Mareren smiled kindly at Hawke and she felt some of her tension leave her. “How do you feel about my daughter, Hawke? You are all she writes about.”

Hawke gazed at the blonde head barely visible through the window and smiled softly. “She’s like flying. She holds all my pieces until I can stick them back together and doesn’t mind the strange edges.”

“Do you love her?” Hawke nodded, sucking her lip between her teeth. “You know about the darkspawn.”

“I do. Everyone thinks we can win.”

“What do you think?” Her gaze turned shrewd.

Hawke tapped her boot against the floor. “No one has seen an archdemon, the Grey Wardens don’t seem very concerned yet either. There just isn’t enough information. If it’s true.” She sighed and met the woman’s eyes. “You think I could talk her into getting on a boat for Kirkwall?”

She chuckled. “No. But you would try and that means a lot to an old woman. We are headed to the Emerald Graves. You would have a place there too.” She squeezed Hawke’s shoulder. “We accept anyone in our clan, half elves and humans as well as those from alienages. Soldiers and thieves, as long as they follow our laws, they have a home.” She was quiet a moment. “My girl hasn’t smiled since her papae died and it’s because of you. Thank you, Rose Hawke.”

 

Hawke was quiet on the ride back to Ostagar and Anna was content to let her be for a time as she mulled over her mother’s words. She leaned over and pulled her hood down. “Why do you always wear it up?”

Hawke rolled her eyes and yanked it back up. “It makes me look mysterious.” Anna could hear the smile. “And you should know how attractive that makes me.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “And I freckle like I’ve caught the fucking pox.”

“I think your freckles are adorable. A million more would be even better.” The wind rustled through the leaves, making the horses dance. “My mother liked you, just like I said she would.”

“I liked her too. She gave me a lot to think about.”

“Oh? Like what?” When Anna had asked her mother what she had discussed with Hawke, she had smiled and patted her daughter’s hand before changing the subject.

“Things, like if you can keep your seat on that horse.” She clicked to her mare and they took off down the road. Anna kicked her horse into a gallop behind them, Hawke’s laughter warming her heart. When they finally came to a walk, her hood had blown back and Hawke left it across her shoulders.


	27. Runaway Brides

The next several weeks became chaotic with Darkspawn and the Fifth Blight. Hawke was becoming intimately familiar with the Kocari Wilds on trips with her scouting party, the things she had seen seared permanently into her mind. What she cherished were the quiet moments in Anna's private quarters, they were a fragile warmth that she felt deep in her bones. She was flopped across the bed beside her lover, reading one of the few books she had purloined as Anna braided their hair together. The other woman hummed while she worked until Hawke leaned over and interrupted her with a kiss. "Did you see the new wardens?"

She nodded. "Arwen Tabris is the only one that survived the Joining. That's too bad. The others were experienced fighters; it seems a waste."

Hawke tapped her nose with the end of the braid. "Captain you may be, but not in this bed."

She smiled ruefully and curled herself around Hawke's side, naked bodies pressing together. "What if we don't make it? The king is convinced of our victory, but a Blight? It's taken years before. We don't have the numbers or the equipment. We're barely recovered from reclaiming the country."

Hawke rolled over and nestled against her. "We could run." She silenced her with a kiss. "I am rogue and thief, not a soldier. Living to love another day could be my motto. There are places we could go."

Anna nodded. "The Emerald Graves are lovely.”

Hawke shrugged. "Not a lot of work for a thief in the forest, sweets."

Anna chuckled. "Not for a soldier either." She leaned her forehead against hers. "It would be so easy to fall in love with you." Hawke blinked owlishly. "But I know you've had your heartbroken before."

She smiled and shook her head before kissing her softly, cutting off her words and tears falling softly from her lashes. "Do you know how much of it you have fixed?" She kissed her again, cradling her chin her hand and her chest feeling so tight and warm. "I love you."

Anna rolled her on to her back, tears mingling with hers and smiling. "I love you too, thief."

She ran her thumb along her chin. “How about Kirkwall? The Waking Sea between us and the Blight. I’ve dreamed of going there since I was a child. I have enough gold we could buy us a nice little place, I bet. You could get a job in the guard, maybe they need a translator. We could start over, just us.” Her breath caught a moment. “Find a captain to marry us on the way.” She smiled shyly at Anna’s wide eyes. “Well, that’s a little fast maybe. But you’re stuck with me, sweets.”

Anna’s voice cracked. “You would want to marry me?”

Hawke sat up, settling the taller woman in her lap with a tangle of limbs, their knuckles white as they held each other. “Captain Anna Lockart, I want nothing more in this world then to marry you if you will have me. I may steal the rings just to prove a point.”

“Do it or I won’t have you.” She laughed and kissed her hard, teeth knocking against lips making Hawke taste blood.


	28. An Ending

Hawke fell from the tree line, barely a hundred yards from the advancing horde. She watched it slam into the front lines of the army. The King's bright armor was a beacon in the madness. She shook her head; sounds were becoming fuzzy. She eyed the wall of Ostagar and threw herself up it for the climb of her life.

It felt like hours as her muscles screamed louder than the battlefield. She pulled herself over the edge and looked down as the ogre tore Cailan apart. She watched in horror and then looked to where Loghain’s army should have been pouring through. It was devoid of life. She sprinted for where Carver and Anna's company was set to be, guarding a side gate for supplies. It was empty of Darkspawn, it looked like they were headed towards the tower. She found Anna, a broken bleeding heap. Hawke fell to her knees beside her. "No, no, no." She fumbled for a potion on her belt.

Anna wheezed, her green eyes clear. "Rose."

Her breath heaved as time slowed. "I'll get you out of here. Just hold on."

"No. I sent Carver." Her body shook. "Out. The blades were poisoned." She tugged on her hand, her grip still strong. "Don't let your heartbreak for me. Not after I fixed it, love."

Tears streamed down Hawke's cheeks. "Then don't die, we have plans. A life." She leaned her forehead against Anna's. "I love you. Don’t leave me."

"I love you too, thief." She stilled beneath Hawke, her eyes unseeing when she pulled away. Hawke violently shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself a moment before closing Anna's and laying a gentle kiss against her forehead.

 

Battle was chaos but something small slammed into him from behind screaming his name. Darkspawn wouldn't know his name. It shook him again, his vision spotty. "Carver!"

He caught her hand as it came sailing at him. "What?"

"We have to leave. Right now."

"We can't run!"

Hawke cut off any further protest. "Cailan has fallen, Loghain betrayed him. The Grey Wardens, Maker, they are all dead, Carver, we have to go!" Her voice was high, her face white beneath the tear streaked blood. "I barely made it out of the Wilds. Everyone in my scouting party is dead. Anna."

He nodded. "Stables." They ran and grabbed the first two horses they could find, their riders dead or missing. Hawke didn't bother shortening the stirrups and they rode away, letting the horses go as fast they wanted toward Lothering. The screams followed them long after silence fell.

They burst through the door in the early dawn, Leandra and Bethany at the kitchen table discussing the day's tasks. Leandra smiled at Carver. "My boy returns victorious then!" She didn't spare Hawke a second glance.

He pulled them to their feet. "We need to leave, now. The Darkspawn are coming."

Bethany blanched but Leandra waved him off. "The Darkspawn have came and went. Our Templars run them off and the army will route them."

Carver stared at her like she was speaking a second language and Hawke laid a hand on his shoulder. "Mother, the army is gone. Loghain turned his back on the King, more than likely he rides for Denerim and Anora, who is Queen alone with Cailan dead on the battlefield."

She looked at her eldest daughter sharply. "And the Grey Wardens?"

"All dead with the King." Hawke swallowed. "If we leave now, we might make it."

Leandra nodded. "Leave it all. We had nothing when we came here and we will leave the same."

Hawke let the others leave first, taking one last look around the only home she had barely known. She hopped on to the table and fished a bag of coin from the cross section of the rafters and added it to her belt. It was enough to get them all across the Waking Sea. There was more at Ostagar, enough for a new, comfortable life for two. She choked on her grief, burying it deep within her. When she stepped out of the house, they were arguing about the horses and she sighed. As she opened her mouth an arrow came careening past her, striking one of the beasts and bringing it down. Hawke recognized the dark fletching and her stomach threatened to heave. Leandra opened her mouth to scream and Hawke tackled her, clamping a hand over her mouth and dragged her to the alley between houses. The twins followed closely behind them. She hissed to them as they walked. "I can get us out of town but you must follow me and be silent. We must not be seen." She shook her mother who nodded and Hawke released her.

Hawke led them through town as dawn broke over the horizon, a bloody sun shining as Darkspawn began their assault on Lothering. Screams, both animal and human filled the air as she led them across the creek and into the forest. Bethany fell back, staring as smoke spiraled skyward. "All of our friends, our home."

Hawke gave her a quick hug. "I know." Beth dashed the tears from her eyes and went to help Leandra over a log.

Carver spoke low to Hawke. "How well do you know these woods?"

She smiled, cold and brutal. "I know them well. I can get us to Amarathine or Denerim without leaving them from this side of the road."

He nodded. "You take point and I'll watch our backs." He cursed himself silently. "Did Anna-?"

"No." Her voice was empty. "She didn't."

"I'm sorry, Hawke. I really am."

She nodded, accepting his hug. "We have a long way to go, little brother. Let's get there."


End file.
